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Posts Tagged ‘writing club’

Writing is to descend like a miner to the depths of the mine with a lamp on your forehead, a light whose dubious brightness falsifies everything, whose wick is in permanent danger of explosion, whose blinking illumination in the coal dust exhaust and corrodes your eyes.  ~Blaise Cendrars

Writing, at its best, is a lonely life. Organizations for writers palliate the writer’s loneliness but I doubt if they improve his writing. He grows in public stature as he sheds his loneliness and often his work deteriorates. For he does his work alone and if he is a good enough writer he must face eternity, or the lack of it, each day.  ~Ernest Hemingway

Nihilism is best done by professionals.  ~Iggy Pop

~~

Posted from the Grove:

A reminder that this week’s Word Game is taking place tomorrow (Mon, 06.10), instead of Thurs. Meeting time is the same 5pm PT / 8pm ET. This new day for meeting will be in effect thru’out the summer

Also, next week will be the last regularly scheduled newsletter for the summer.  Twice monthly issues of the Wordgrove Post & Review will begin the first week in July. Guest editors are welcome. Pick a week, perhaps late summer, and spend a month or two crafting a polished edition. Have fun with it. It will be posted online at: http://wordgrovepost.wordpress.com

~

Prewritten for Mon (tomorrow, 06/1o) 5 pm PT/8 ET is: whip, science

~~

@Writers Platform
Glass Table:

~Greenie: A Dream You Dream
Dreams wiser than the dreamer, flights of joy rising higher than flights of fancy, the blowback when dreams invade the world

~Wizardofoz: Heaven Can Wait
The last frontier and great Unknowable, dread it or face it with excitement; one hand raised, he’ll volunteer; yes he’ll go, but wouldn’t it be neat instead for live evidence to fall from the sky with real answers

~Stejovis: Various Sonnets  (previously reviewed)

Prewritten: write a sonnet

~Stejovis: in the manner of an Italian sonnet
Eagles fly the same space where imagination soars, where once they collided in a mind-meld, eyes too; aloft, the small world below, full wonder and amazement, then the dizzy fall, crash landing to awareness; Score: Adventure-8, Broken bones-0

a simple word sonnet  (quoted)

lonely
bird
calls
across
open
sky;
who
needs
me
now,
my
nest
is
empty

~Piffin: Countenance
The rituals of worship slowly take hold, free the mind for devotion; then emerges the vision of God’s own brightest jewel, the visage of one’s beloved; adoration for the God who gave her beauty, gave her radiance with a heart

~BarTalk: Rue Street

~

Impromptu: Plans for the summer were discussed, no impromptu

~ . ~

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Quoted in the Grove:

The church says: The body is a sin. Science says: The body is a machine. Advertising says: The body is a business. The body says: I am a fiesta.
~Eduardo Galeano

Your life is the one place you have to spend yourself fully–wild, generous, drastic–in an unrationed profligacy of self … And in that split second when you understand that you finally are about to die-to uncreate the world no time to do it over no more chances–that instant when you realize your conscious existence is truly flaring nova, won’t you want to have used up all-all-the splendor that you are?
~Robin Morgan

Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life.
~Mary Oliver

~~

Posted from the Grove:
Since this Thurs is already taken up with a day of Thanksgiving, this week’s Word Game has been rescheduled for Wed (11/21), same Bat Time: 5 pm Pacific/8 Eastern, same Bat Station: Writers Platform

Prewritten is: A poem written in the style of Shakespeare (not only is the assignment in a foreign language and impossible to accomplish, but there’s a day less in which to do it, thank you Piffin). Hmm … this could be fun tho. Give a Nutter the chance to go wild, with a license to try anything and call it Shakespeare, with no one to gainsay it, it just might be fun. Give it a try, stop by. No doubt, he’d be honored

As previously noted, the computer died and needs replacing. Until then, travel in There using a netbook …  might as well be wading waist deep in molasses. And face planting into trees is not as fun as it sounds, surprisingly. Therefore, new work anywhere in WG that’s not on Writers Platform will be receiving less attention for the short while. But the Post & Review will be catching up soon

BriarRoseEve has been absent from Wordgrove for a long time, so it is good to hear from her and to learn that we lost her to a higher cause. Shutting out distractions, Briar has squirreled herself away to finish her first novel. Writers have many beginnings in their careers, and it is a matter of deep pride to this editor that Wordgrove gave Briar one of her writing starts

Daring to give up the commercial promise of one book for the novel she really wants to write, Piffin too is hard away at crafting the novel this editor is panting to read. Jessalee continues to work on her novel while being a new mom and working. These people write because they have to write, so we know why they do it. The question is how they manage it

@Writers Platform
Glass Library Table:
Stejovis: Fireplace Fantasy
When logs are legs with a nice ash and the poker is sizzling hot, by the time crescendoing flames lead to an eruption of sparks, the reader is left wanting a smoke

~Greenie: Silent Song
Between the falling teardrop and the blank page below are the stars of night and the last of a Cheshire smile
~

~Greenie: Touched and Awed*
Eyes mist
Breath catches
Heart skips
Trips

I tell myself to breathe
Thank you, each of you
Your offerings move me

Jessalee/Stejovis/Piffin/BarTalk

And thank you, Greenie
PS: You too are on my list of reasons to be thankful

*Quoted, because the original said it best.
~

Prewritten: horizon

~Piffin: .Horizon.
How is Giraffe on the Ark supposed to scan for land with cats yowling, scattering in the rafters?
~or~
.Engagement.
Words are to love what boots are to a brain; the impact of both, the great change, and the horizon that wasn’t death

~

Impromptu: Reflections of a murderer on the day without mentioning the crime

~Piffin: .In The Tall Grass.
Taking advantage of public lassitude, a throw-away culture and lean budgets to hide a body in plain sight

~Stejovis: totally free
The allure of personal justice and the lure of simple answers lead to unravelings in a sibling prank gone bad; and just as civil wars and the Middle East prove out, no one fights like family

~Aluria: Aunt Ida’s Brownies
Belladonna, Christmas brownies and divorce by extreme prejudice

~BarTalk: Death at Rue Merde
~~

Writers in Residence:
@the Tally Sign:
~Stejovis: Sneak Attack
Must be seen, too clever for review; your one chance to vote where the voting is fun

~GaryBob @NutNut Fountain: Virtual Diaspora
Like finding a scroll from the last hours of Pompeii or from the desperate times of Atlantis sinking, GB’s poem of the last days of There closing was to relive a great sadness. To read it from the future with friendships replenished and the world restored is to feel the blended meaning of words like epic and magic

~Piffin: All Life’s Other Lies
Gritty image of a cigarette stubbed out in coffee dregs before the entrance of another; call it love because there was healing, then breaking waves on an empty shore, a lonely fire and a broken heart

~Jessalee: (murder) 1115
With a breakdown in communication between Mac & PC worlds, a written story threatens to become the real story, the war between man and machine and death by defenestration

~Greymane @Greyed Expectations 2: ~5~ of 6
In the Valley of Shadows, ominous and foreboding; ah, but to throw a shadow, however dim, needs a source of light

~Whitefeather @Dreaming Tree: Unreliable Map
Nighttime, dream-like, a soup of fog swirls in patches under the lamplight, parts, reveals the tattooed World Woman in bed, quivering to the soft tracings of a quill on her skin; posing dangers to the role of compass, how reliable is a map that moves?

http://whitefeathersblog.files.wordpress.com/2012/06/art_ilovemaps.png
~ . ~

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