Archive for November, 2012

Quoted in the Grove:
If you are destined to become a writer, you can’t help it. If you can help it, you aren’t destined to become a writer. The frustrations and disappointments, not to mention the unspeakable loneliness, are too unbearable for anyone who doesn’t have a deep sense of being unable to avoid writing.
~Donald Harington

If you do not answer the noise and urgency of your gifts, they will turn on you. Or drag you down with their immense sadness at being abandoned. ~Joy Harjo

If you don’t write the book you have to write, everything breaks. ~AM Homes


Posted from the Grove:
Prewritten for Thurs (11/29) 5 pm Pacific/8 Eastern is: time, opera

Wordgrove has new members to welcome: AgapeLove, GwynethIII, Issubah, thx, and wndlynn. The readers of WG hope to enjoy your work on Writers Platform soon. All are welcome as readers of course, but we especially encourage new writers. Don’t hesitate to ask BarTalk for a free Book, Script or Scroll if this is what it takes to get you started

Thurs Word Games are usually about chatting, writing, and chatting about writing. Last Thurs tacked on a carnival at the end, and Wordgrove has two new PAZs to welcome. Stejovis gives us Haiku Haven, a small lush temple garden dedicated to … haiku. OdileC brings out a single tree as a beacon to lead the reader to her poetry in Crescendo. Next week, a look at the books these PAZs harbor


@Writers Platform
The Glass Library Table: No new drops

Prewritten: A poem in the style of Shakespeare

~Stejovis: Shakespearean mode – unfinished title (so far)
Begins with ‘hope’ as a boon to the despairing, ends with it as a barrier to peace and acceptance; between times, to dream the impossible dream and not be worthy of it

~Piffin: Elizabethan Modern – .I, Pod.
A cacophony of city sounds and the drag of memories weigh heavy on weary feet; instead, bud embedded music and a symphony without words; a spell of escape, batteries not included

~BarTalk: Prithee Staye

~Stejovis: Beyond the Horizon  (from last week)
Between the known and the unknown, between the physical and the spiritual, between curiosity and discovery, between the quotidian and eternal, between the observer and observed: there is horizon

Impromptu: telegraph, oven

~Piffin: .Red Snow.
The bleeding disease, 4 out of 5, maybe 9 times out of 10 it is fatal; there are intelligent creatures who smell that blood, who feed on it; they’re on their way

~OdileC: Oxen Anyone?
Man against nature, rats against oxen, choices of food and the cultivation of grass

~Jessalee: oxen, telegraph  1121
Was the shaking hand a battle-induced tremor or a result of the stampede; was ‘lied’ typed in instead of ‘died’ intentionally; does Private Smith know his friend’s missus to whom the letter is addressed; cryptic indeed

~Stejovis: Message in the Miles
How strange after traveling thru rich verdant lives to die in arid deserts, to know at last gasp that nothing learned before helps here, and that new questions arise at the spark of death


Writers in Residence:
~whitefeather @Dreaming Tree: Acrobat/Oven
The radiance of a ballerina midair before her wings are clipped, the wires that guided and lifted her, cut; a marionette without a martinet, the tumbling descent onto unyielding floor, nothing but dressed up wooden kindling without a master to give her movement, a discard in the corner, cotton sweepings for the oven

~Greymane @Greyed Expectations 2:  ~6~ of 6
The word that launched a thousand tears, the world’s drama powered by the mystery of that sound

~GaryBob @NutNut Fountain: Narcissus Moon
Beauty infected Narcissus sees diamonds for stars, and the moon’s reflection a priceless underwater gem; the fool’s fevered brain cooled by death and the icy waters rippling overhead

~Piffin @Cinderella Sneakers: sunday afternoon
Ragged breathing and the bored exploitation of two mutuals grinding out mechanical sex

~ . ~

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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

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


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?
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?

~ . ~

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Quoted in the Grove:
When I was young, I admired clever people. Now that I am old, I admire kind people. ~Abraham Joshua Heschel

You know, you can steel your heart against any kind of trouble, any kind of horror. But the simple act of kindness from a complete stranger will unstitch you. ~Chris Abani

Be silly, be honest, be kind. ~Ralph Waldo Emerson

News from the Grove:
This week is the briefest of introductions for the returning Wordgrove newsletter. A few cosmetic changes have been made, but the spirit remains the same. Wordgrove is less about critiquing work, and more about encouraging writers

Thursday Word Games continue with regulars popping in and out as schedules allow. Numbers are admittedly small but usual for the summer doldrums. If you haven’t been lately, the backlog from past events means that Writers Platform is worth a visit

Whitefeather and Piffin have gone missing the last few weeks and are missed, truly missed. The return of AidenScott (that’s ‘Aiden’ if you know him, ‘JQ’ if you dare), is a HUGE plus, but no one fills another’s void

Aiden provides this week’s Prewritten Topic: Describe a place (in haiku form 5-7-5) that brings out your inner writer. (ex. a coffee house, your living room, etc.) Describe the smell, the emotions you feel, your thoughts… Write about one place that just gets your creative juices flowing

Be there, have fun at this week’s Word Game: Thurs (9/20) at 5 pm PDT/8 EDT

On Writers Platform:
Past events produced poems and stories based on some of the following prompts: keychain, acrobat/oven, bloodmoon, whisper/alley, etc. There are pieces by various Authors, browse where your interest takes you. Return often. Leave something for others to read

Jessa and Aiden each produced work based on the word prompts in last week’s Word Game exercise. This editor was present for chat but missed the 20 minute writing exercise, absent while walking his dog

The words: Guardian/Flake
Jessa chose narrative to cover the week’s assignment. Rop is the main character practicing the rites of prehistoric magic to guarantee the safe arrival of his newborn. He is as real with the same commitment and emotions as his 21st century counterpart

‘“I will guard her” the clouds attest’  Aiden uses poetry to bring together a guardian and the delicate princess of snow flakes; the elements come together to protect a promise

Next week’s Post & Review will begin visiting Wordgrove’s resident PAZs for the newsletter’s Writers in Residence section

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