A recent sonnet, written for a friend whom I love. It's hard to see your loved ones hurt themselves.
This is a poem I wrote when I was about 15 years old, based on Oscar Wilde's 'The Importance of Being Earnest (A Trivial Comedy for Serious People).' Check out that complex rhyme scheme!
A poem about how pain can feel like it takes over your identity. Written in a flare. Any Spoonies who can relate, please make yourself known in the comments!
How do you reconcile the different sorts of love? How do you risk loving someone you depend on? How do you deal with the constant confusion of desperation and gratitude?
As anyone with chronic pain will tell you, sometimes the huge effort it takes to do little things, like make a cup of tea or shower, really grinds you down. So when something big comes up, it can really knock you for six. Like, for example, having to make the significant decision to quit your Master’s degree because you’re not well enough to finish it.
My word count has fallen significantly behind my goal projection, because I had my first PHYSIOTHERAPY on Thursday! It was a really positive, albeit completely bizarre, experience.
Before I proceeded any further, I had to go over my protagonist’s timeline to get a sense of what was happening when. As any first-time writer would, I have structured my story as a series of fragments, not in chronological order. Because of course, when you’re embarking on your first novel, you should always try and make it as difficult for yourself as possible.
Yesterday I made the exciting and slightly terrifying decision to sign up for National Novel Writing Month (“NaNoWriMo” for short – ‘cos even writers love abbreviations…). I can do it, for the good of the cause, i.e. actually finishing a bloomin’ story for the first time in my life.