Lit blog

[Senna Jawa]

We've had our spats in the past

Really? With me?!!

but for all that I kind of missed you and yeah I'm glad you're still around

Thank you.

I was very sad after learning about "Safe Bet". We have here on this forum often virtual relations only but they can be more intensive than non-virtual ones.

 

[Senna Jawa]

competitions?

Is it already 2 years since you guys have started those humongous complex and intensive competitions? Do you feel that they have helped your poetic skills?

 

[Epmd607]

I compete with this guy http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tYdHmNrfBWU

when I write poems.

 

[Senna Jawa]

hesitating? or merely expressing yourself with words using another medium? it's still writing, of a sorts. i've never been in that place where a conscious decision about whether to write or not write has been on the plate.

I meant just this blog. It's not like I was explicitly and intensively thinking about writing or not writing here. But there was some hesitation in me. Now that I do think about it a bit I can see that there were/are at least three things to be unsure about:

• some things are better to be written as fiction (which takes more energy though);
• my relation with this forum was far from smooth most of the time;
• I didn't write a poem in English in a long time.

I had not commented on those gigantic competitions, with several poets here participating in them, I didn't want to spoil anybody's fun. However it alienated me from this forum. I am mentioning it for the first time, only now. I hope that everybody had/has a good time.

Another thing also does not help my writing poems in English, and posting them on Literotica: the Literotica posting procedure, and especially later the editing, is too awkward for me (I am talking about the software). Such a thing cannot be a major reason for not writing poems but on this occasion it is that proverbial straw which breaks the camel's back. On the top of it I have developed a phobia of the messed up format on Literotica, which does not help either.

surely, when it demands to be written, it will get written ... to keep it all in, the what needs to be out, must put enormous strain on one's mental/physical health. it's tantamount to a denial of one's nature as a writer.

I wish it were that simple. It's not, and in both directions.

 

[butters]

Is it already 2 years since you guys have started those humongous complex and intensive competitions? Do you feel that they have helped your poetic skills?

having never taken part in one yet, i can't answer that question with anything like the authority of others who have; i would suggest, though, that it helps with the discipline a writer can benefit from since it's more a case of ordering their thoughts and words rather than allowing free expression to reign - free expression isn't necessarily a good thing. imo, some of the best writing's conceived when creativity is balanced with control.

 

[butters]

I meant just this blog. It's not like I was explicitly and intensively thinking about writing or not writing here. But there was some hesitation in me. Now that I do think about it a bit I can see that there were/are at least three things to be unsure about:

• some things are better to be written as fiction (which takes more energy though);
• my relation with this forum was far from smooth most of the time;
• I didn't write a poem in English in a long time.

I had not commented on those gigantic competitions, with several poets here participating in them, I didn't want to spoil anybody's fun. However it alienated me from this forum. I am mentioning it for the first time, only now. I hope that everybody had/has a good time.

Another thing also does not help my writing poems in English, and posting them on Literotica: the posting procedure, and especially later the editing, is too awkward for me (I am talking about the software). Such a thing cannot be a major reason for not writing poems but on this occasion it is what breaks the camel's back (am I using this saying properly? ). On the top of it I have developed a fear of the messed up format on Literotica, which does not help either.



I wish it were that simple. It's not, and in both directions.

I didn't realise about the language thing, or your history here.

I wish it were that simple for you.

For me, it would be.

 

[Senna Jawa]

having never taken part in one yet, i can't answer that question with anything like the authority of others who have; i would suggest, though, that it helps with the discipline a writer can benefit from since it's more a case of ordering their thoughts and words rather than allowing free expression to reign - free expression isn't necessarily a good thing. imo, some of the best writing's conceived when creativity is balanced with control.

There are many different ways to introduce some discipline into your writing or into the process of your writing.

 

[butters]

There are many different ways to introduce some discipline into your writing or into the process of your writing.

i have no dispute with this statement whatsoever.

would you care to elaborate on any methods you have found to be productive?

 

[Tzara]

My wife is out of town for a few days, so I grilled my dinner tonight. I lit the charcoal with a matchbook from a restaurant that probably hasn’t been in existence for thirty years or more.

Back in the days when smoking was not only tolerated but quite acceptable, most restaurants, at least most higher-class restaurants, would supply free matches, either a matchbook or more commonly a matchbox, with their logo on the cover. I collected these, and quite filled up a large bowl with them, over several years. I'm rather interested in graphic art and the restaurant logos were usually, sometimes spectacularly so, better than the food.

Anyway. As I was lighting the grill tonight, I was thinking about this restaurant, which is one I quite liked, but as I remember one of the principals ran off with the money and it closed.

I happened to google it and found that the Seattle Public Library has preserved some of its menus. To what purpose, I don't know, but kind of a weird kickback to the 80's.

The matches still strike perfectly, as if they were new.

 

[GuiltyPleasure]

I don't want this blog to die so I gave it CPR and want you all to help me breathe life into it.

The minutiae of my life are boring beyond belief but I'm getting reports of Spring which makes my heart lighten.
We have a gang of thirty quail regularly hanging out in the garden. It's amazing they're thriving because this is a cat-friendly neighbourhood.
These quail are all adolescents and will soon pair up to produce those little fluff balls that skitter around come spring. They're fascinating birds

 

[Lyricalli]

I never knew this existed. The final post before yours was before I stumbled my way in here. I might have to go back through and look at some point, if I ever get caught up on current writings (still way behind) and find some time for it. The quails sound fun.

The idea of spring is quite nice at the moment, as my heat has been on the fritz since Thursday afternoon, and they can't come to look at it until Tuesday. Luckily, I've got a fireplace, blankets, and cats to help a bit with the chill. Luckily, it's not as cold as it could be at the moment, and at least I'm indoors. Time to go turn on the kettle for another cup of tea

 

[GuiltyPleasure]

Well, I have to thank you, Calli, for pointing it out in another thread. Sorry to hear about your heating woes, it's cold here, too, but at least it's sunny and we're lucky enough to have a heat pump.
I've decided to try and step up my poetry output. I'm a terrible procrastinator, so time will tell. Well.........back to work.

 

[butters]

it's january, and despite it not even being chilly today i'm in my normal winter torpor... i usually liken it to a teapot and dormouse situation, but lately it's more like a bear in as much as all i want to do is eat and sleep. It's not the temperatures, it's the lack of light experienced here due to such heavy skies denying almost all sunlight. Just give me a cosy cave, some ribs to gnaw on and H to snuggle up to and i'm good till march

 

[Lyricalli]

Well, I have to thank you, Calli, for pointing it out in another thread. Sorry to hear about your heating woes, it's cold here, too, but at least it's sunny and we're lucky enough to have a heat pump.
I've decided to try and step up my poetry output. I'm a terrible procrastinator, so time will tell. Well.........back to work.

I edited those posts a while ago, to weed out all the old and broken links, and so I saw "Lit blog" and I must've checked the link, but in the midst of all the tidying it didn't register, and I don't remember having seen it before you bumped it. I was very confused for a minute when I read this reply, until I figured out what you meant.

 

[GuiltyPleasure]

Well, it snowed! just when we thought we were home free.
It's very pretty and, hopefully, won't last long because I'm hungry for irises, daffodils, and colour. The snow is already on the way out, dropping, like weary, white snakes, off phone wires and falling in clumsy bundles, from the fir trees.
Sadly, a friend I've had since university has died. She and I were holdouts for snail mail and fountain pens. She met her husband-to-be at Cambridge too, so we have more in common than you'd think. Writing longhand is beyond me now but printouts of my computer-sourced letters plodded over to England, but her letters were always in elegant longhand, full of news about her family, our old cohorts, and memories. Then, lo and behold, a letter arrived from her daughter, to thank me for sending my condolences written in pen and ink and in a similar elegant hand. The tradition lives on.

 

[butters]

Well, it snowed! just when we thought we were home free.
It's very pretty and, hopefully, won't last long because I'm hungry for irises, daffodils, and colour. The snow is already on the way out, dropping, like weary, white snakes, off phone wires and falling in clumsy bundles, from the fir trees.
Sadly, a friend I've had since university has died. She and I were holdouts for snail mail and fountain pens. She met her husband-to-be at Cambridge too, so we have more in common than you'd think. Writing longhand is beyond me now but printouts of my computer-sourced letters plodded over to England, but her letters were always in elegant longhand, full of news about her family, our old cohorts, and memories. Then, lo and behold, a letter arrived from her daughter, to thank me for sending my condolences written in pen and ink and in a similar elegant hand. The tradition lives on.

 

[Angeline]

Well, it snowed! just when we thought we were home free.
It's very pretty and, hopefully, won't last long because I'm hungry for irises, daffodils, and colour. The snow is already on the way out, dropping, like weary, white snakes, off phone wires and falling in clumsy bundles, from the fir trees.
Sadly, a friend I've had since university has died. She and I were holdouts for snail mail and fountain pens. She met her husband-to-be at Cambridge too, so we have more in common than you'd think. Writing longhand is beyond me now but printouts of my computer-sourced letters plodded over to England, but her letters were always in elegant longhand, full of news about her family, our old cohorts, and memories. Then, lo and behold, a letter arrived from her daughter, to thank me for sending my condolences written in pen and ink and in a similar elegant hand. The tradition lives on.

I'm sorry. May her memory be a blessing.

 

[Lyricalli]

Then, lo and behold, a letter arrived from her daughter, to thank me for sending my condolences written in pen and ink and in a similar elegant hand. The tradition lives on.

Hopefully, there's some comfort in seeing that part of your friend in her daughter. My sympathies on your loss.

 

[Mrtenant]

Well, it snowed! just when we thought we were home free.
It's very pretty and, hopefully, won't last long because I'm hungry for irises, daffodils, and colour. The snow is already on the way out, dropping, like weary, white snakes, off phone wires and falling in clumsy bundles, from the fir trees.
Sadly, a friend I've had since university has died. She and I were holdouts for snail mail and fountain pens. She met her husband-to-be at Cambridge too, so we have more in common than you'd think. Writing longhand is beyond me now but printouts of my computer-sourced letters plodded over to England, but her letters were always in elegant longhand, full of news about her family, our old cohorts, and memories. Then, lo and behold, a letter arrived from her daughter, to thank me for sending my condolences written in pen and ink and in a similar elegant hand. The tradition lives on.

Sympathies for you and everyone close to her.
And how heartening that must be to receive the written thank you letter written in similar a fashion. That's a beautiful thing.