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?
One of the best things that has happened to me since leaving full-time education is that I have rediscovered the joy of reading. In this extended piece, I look back on the books of 2016 and how they reflect my personal growth.
Simply put, this is a stonking addition to modern feminist literature. Wolf provides a sweeping biography of female sexuality and how it has been perceived, feared, subjugated, and embraced, throughout the centuries of civilisation. In this age of Pornography as Teacher, we have never needed Wolf’s perspective more.
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.
Yes, it is safe to say, I have been flagging. I was hoping to get at least a week in before I began to wobble but alas, it took me just five days. In my defence, I knew I wouldn’t be writing for two of them because of being in London. What I didn’t foresee (though I probably should have done) was the massive blooming flare-up that followed my Big City jaunt.
‘What is that?!’ he exclaimed. I explained it was my essay plan. He looked at the multi-coloured spider diagram, then back at me, then shook his head and exhaled. ‘Wow,’ he sighed. ‘I’d hate to be in your head.’