Writing has just... not been possible for the past few months. Oof.
I'm trying to figure something out for Camp Nano but I don't want to put any pressure on myself.
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Things I've realized & remembered over the past few weeks:
writing is ridiculously hard
starting a garden is ridiculously expensive
it's impossible to be perfect
good things happen when you put effort into them
I'm a decent writer
I need to get my own apartment
do not try carrying a bag of potting soil home by yourself, because you WILL fail
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Finally starting to work on Project AM again! There's no way I'm going to hit my Camp Nano goal, but that's okay. I'm taking it paragraph by paragraph.
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hey it's pe-ersona!! I read your latest line in a tag game, what's Project AM about???
Hey @pe-ersona! Nice to meet you (and thanks for tagging me in the game)! ^_^
Essentially, Project AM is a new adult vampire story about a teenage girl named Zaria. (I haven’t made a proper WIP intro post yet, but I mentioned it on my Camp Nano planning post here.) I’m still working out the details as I write, but so far, the story has focused around Zaria’s adjustment to vampire life, her missing sister, an ongoing debate about vampire rights, and an underground club called the AM Factory that ties it all together.
It’s also very gay because I am very gay.
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So, for the past few days I've been in a bad emotional place and I haven't gotten any writing done. Which sucks for my novel, but also really sucks for my poetry.
And I was especially upset that I haven't been writing poems for every Escapril prompt... until last night, when I got ideas for several poems that could answer the prompts I've missed.
And after I got these ideas, I thought "wait a minute -- if there are no rules in writing, then I don't have to answer these prompts in order if I don't want to" and my brain just went:
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but what even is writing, actually?
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Escapril day 9 - paradox
Baked within the sob stories,
tangled into the loathing,
living in its own circle,
there is a tree
growing soft petals, turning
sweeter than taffy
every spring,
gently collecting the
sludge and runoff between
pink petals
and a few miles away
there is a hawk minding its
business, known to kill pigeons
with grace,
and there is a ginko tree
dropping toxins on the ground
to be crushed underfoot and
spoken about with awe,
and up and down the street
there is law-breaking
art
laughing at the dark
that painted it,
declaring that you need
to eat acid before you see God
while knowing full well that
it is God
and check it out:
the sky only lights up blue for so long
before it turns red and gold,
and when the roads are
forced to be alight,
when even heaven is turned off,
you can still see twinkling points
behind the artificial haze
and somewhere in the distance
friends are getting boba for the
first time in months,
and the broken
branches of joy are echoing.
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I'm seriously thinking of putting my Escapril poems into a chapbook. These are some of my favorite things I've ever written.
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The universe has granted me POWER, guys! I met all my writing goals in two hours, and I have time to finish the rest of my day now!!!!
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Escapril day 8 - Tessellation
This one was surprisingly easy to write! I may have taken the geometry metaphors and ran with them a bit, hahaha. Hope you guys enjoy it!
Content warning: references to Autism $peaks & the puzzle piece
I'm less of a mosaic,
less of an infinite plane,
cumbersome and rigid
and forever-sprawling,
less a tessellation than
I am a tesseract.
It's not that my patterns
repeat to infinity,
breaking people's patience as I go,
or that my soul is fragmented
and welded back together with
care;
rather,
the patterns live in a dimension
separate from patience itself,
one where they
are as average as a
rug on the floor,
no misplaced stitches,
no flaws in the weaving,
not a single thread
loose. But here
I am a puzzle in pieces to people who don't
try to get it
and a person hidden inside
a different person
to the people
who have ever bothered
to care.
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Camp Nano advice
I've been looking to do more word crawls to help boost my wordcount. If any of you guys have recommendations for crawls or sprints I can do on the Nano forums, let me know! My asks are open for you guys to send me their names & links.
Okay, that's all; gonna go write some more ^_^
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Finally getting back into the swing of things for Project AM!
I celebrated by listening to Bad Apple an absurd number of times. Don't ask, haha.
[Picture ID: a screenshot of the NaNoWriMo word-counting software. The trackers read, "500/7500 total words," "309/305 words needed today," and "1 day in a row." The progress update bar has two entries, which read "April 7 2021 - 309 words" and "April 5 2021 - 191 words."]
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Escapril day 6 - (L)on(e)ly
so this one was a little harder to write, but I really love how it turned out. pay attention to the wording... hope you guys enjoy it <3
Skin Dip
I think you forgot it:
two months post-graduation,
that swan song of youth
in which you drank your past
into obscurity,
said that it was okay
to watch
your pants and shirt dropping into
haphazard chaos
on a patch of ground that
was firm and rich, but
only
in the dark,
as if it made sense
to pretend that back then,
before now,
we spoke without
letters missing.
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Important Camp Nano progress update:
I was finally able to start writing parts of Project AM again!!! (The last couple of days have been flat-out impossible for me to get any work done.)
Now let's hope that I can catch up on Escapril as well! ^_^ /gen
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a sore butt vs. 90 minutes to hit my wordcount for the day; which is going to win?
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Escapril Day 2 - The exact middle
I wonder if I’ll ever stop
writing about in-betweens.
Every other stroke
leaking out of my pen
is restless, in one way
or another.
There’s always some other
way to think about the words,
always a second or a third or an
infinite number of worlds
between the lines.
Destroying the liminal space makes my writing
feel like that of a child,
I’ve realized.
My brain doesn’t like that idea.
I’m not sure why;
children live with their heads
so deep in liminal space
that maybe facing
adulthood only hurts because
it’s black-and-white.
And I like to think that
language
alone
can illuminate the colors in
different places times dimensions bodies ruins
-- I mean, seriously!
I don’t want to blind myself to beauty,
the same way I never want
Penn Station to be stuck in time
or my skin to stop eating itself
or the words coming out to be coherent
or to finish a second draft.
The babbling
is the goddamn point.
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