The Poetic Mind as a MuscleThe Poetic Mind as a MuscleThe Poetic Mind as a Muscle2 years ago in Articles & Interviews More Like This
As a poet at any given skill level, you might ponder different ways to advance your mastery of the craft. You might spend weeks dissecting famous and not so famous poets. You might read countless articles on poetic technique. You might just plow through any and every collection you can get your hands on, track all of the most well-know journals, follow all of the contemporaries. All of these things add up to a knowledgeable poet. However, does this necessarily make you a better poet?
No. The reason is that most of us equivocate poetic skill with divinely gifted talent. We often think of poetry as a latent ability that we merely possess or do not. This leads to certain diseases within the mind, whether it be the idea that our words are beyond reproach because they are "self expression," or we decide that words come out and that's all there is to it. Other times we are stricken by the undeniable flaws of our work, even t
How To Get Noticed on deviantART V2.0The tips that really work...How To Get Noticed on deviantART V2.05 months ago in Reviews & Guides More Like This
It's been a while since I wrote one of these guides and, since V1.0 and V1.5 proved to be so popular, I feel it is about time I update my guide to getting noticed on deviantART.
So, you want to get noticed on deviantART but you're not sure where to start? You've come to the right place; pull out your note pad and pen, you'll need them.
Before beginning to read this article, ask yourself why you want to get noticed on deviantART. Do you want to play more of an active role in the community or do you want to raise attention to your commissions and make a living? Do you want to get noticed to meet more deviants, or do you want to be able to say you are "popular"? It is vital to know what you are searching for before you embark on your journey to reach your goal. This article will sh
Children's Literature, Morality + Changing IdealsIntroductionChildren's Literature, Morality + Changing Ideals2 years ago in Articles & Interviews More Like This
With the invention of the printing press in the fifteenth century, and its gradual integration into society, people at last had access to literature. It was William Caxton who first saw the opportunity to make money by printing and selling those stories and fables hitherto told by word of mouth.
At this time, literature did not have age-specific target audiences. Inevitably, some stories appealed to children more than others. Robin Hood was especially popular, while Aesop's fables offered entertainment and life lessons to adults and children alike.
It is, of course, impossible to say exactly when and how literature was identified as a useful tool in teaching morality to children. It is speculated that there was no concept of 'childhood' before the eighteenth century, although historians debate this, as historians are apt to do. Whatever one's view on this, it cannot be denied that the older generation has throug
A Short VisitIn the country,A Short Visit1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
the scarcity of humanity,
our ability to stand outside and be alone,
holds an undeniable appeal to me.
Even in the cold, the quiet can be
a great friend. The sun was out today,
pleasant on the skin. The wind had subdued
from last night's blowing. I sat in my
great-grandfather's metal lawn chair.
He kept this one outside the barn.
Told me once how he found a meteorite
in the chair. Said it hit the barn
and bounced right down to sit a spell.
Said it gave him a little shock,
a space-spark he called it,
when he picked it up from its resting spot.
How old was he then?
My age? I only recall an aged,
bald, weathered, cowboy who still preferred
to do his business in the outhouse
instead of the indoor room with water
from pipes. He told me
he knew when I was being born
because his knees itched from where
I would sit and his hands stung
from where he would spank me.
He and Granny shared a small house,
blown by the horrid western Oklahoma wind,
on a hill that overlooked their pond
On Literary Criticism and dA CritiqueThis is going to be one of those days in which I simply decide in forsaking my usual approach towards writing poetry or short stories or an obscure essay or a review or even a non-fiction tale, for something of a much more important degree of understanding.On Literary Criticism and dA Critique1 year ago in Articles & Interviews More Like This
Now, before we collectively peruse the nature of the critique; the method of the critique; the varieties of the critique; and the balance needed in writing a critique; let us first define what a critique truly is.
According to (Pickering, 2004), a critique - or more correctly, "literary criticism" - can be defined as:
Literary Criticism is nothing more or less than an attempt to clarify, explain, and evaluate our experience with a given literary work. (Pickering, 2004, "Reader's Guide to the Short Story", Pearson Prentice Hill)
There's a wonderful paragraph about the purpose of writing a critique but I won't post it here since:
This is not a literature paper
This is an essay just to help people understand why critiq
The Split in the Literature CommunityNot long ago, I put up a poll with a link to a survey outside of dA - the number of answers has been hovering in the nineties for quite a while now, and doesn't look like it's going to change, so I'd like to share some thoughts and data.The Split in the Literature Community3 months ago in Editorial More Like This
But first, let me explain the purpose of the poll. There were seven questions in all, but only two that I was actually interested in:
1. Why are you on dA?
2. What is the main reason you are on dA?
The questions were provided with the same answers, but with one crucial difference - the first question allowed for many responses; the second only allowed for one. This is what I was looking to study.
When allowing for multiple answers, all the results got a number of responses:
- To share my writing: 89%
- To improve my writing: 78%
- To make friends: 62%
- To get famous: 7%
- To have a support network: 57%
- To collect/admire the work of others: 67%
And when forced to narrow it down to a single reason, the results were:
- To share my writing: 42%
ControlThe feeling came over Bill when he was out checking his trap line in the dying light of a winter evening. Eyes on the back of his head. He knew the wary scrutiny of the deer and the hungry yet restrained gaze of the wolf. This didn't feel like either. It didn't belong to this place any more than he did. He would have preferred the wolf.Control3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
He turned around, shook his gun at the reddening sky, and cupped his other hand to his mouth. "I know you're out there! This is private property! I don't wanna use this, but you'll leave me no choice if I catch you hanging around here!"
A soft rustle from somewhere deep enough that the trees obscured his vision. He waited until he felt he was alone again, then trudged through the snow to see what he could learn about the intruder. There were prints made by boots similar to his, though smaller. The thought that he outweighed whoever it was offered little comfort.
He cast one last disgusted look in the direction the tracks took as they moved away, then re
letters from the seai.letters from the sea1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
sometimes when i wake up
before the sun rises, when i’m all alone
and it feels like i might be the only person in the world
i notice that my face is wet
and i wonder if it’s because
i’ve been swimming with you in my dreams
i remember you
in the summer nights under the corsican stars
and the warmth of your skin in the cold seawater
how the phosphorescence coated our bodies
as we swam together,
the salty tang of the ocean and your fingers up my spine
and us glowing like soft stars in the night
i remember how i wished it could last forever
now i wonder if the tides and my tears
were so different after all
Official FFM Prompt Bank 2014:iconflash-fic-month:Official FFM Prompt Bank 20147 months ago in Editorial More Like This
This promptmobile has been parked up rusting for a whole year. It needs an oil change, a lick of paint and some air in the tyres. We're presently sourcing some fluffy dice for the mirror and a nice novelty airfreshener.
Most importantly, though, the tank is dry as a bone.
Time to siphon us off some promptjuice. Fuel us up with your best original prompts for people to dip into during the month when they need creative jump leads.
As always, the chosen few will be chosen, featured and credited in our daily updates.
Protip: We can always use visual prompts, musical prompts, prompts in the form of interpretive dance and other variegated promptitudinousness as well as the usual prompts made of words.
VIVA LA FFM!
Masquerade Villanelle IILife is a masquerade.Masquerade Villanelle II3 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
You're only safe when in disguise.
Remove your mask and be betrayed.
There's every reason to be afraid
A stranger's frozen face, flashing eyes,
Life is a perilous masquerade.
A look sharp as a tempered blade.
Honeyed wordsdo not listen to their lies.
If you remove your mask you'll be betrayed.
Dance, smile, and nod; a silent shade,
Hide deep your heart and beware of spies.
Life is a dance, a whirling masquerade.
Difficulty comes with your temper frayed
Take courage, and let no one hear your cries.
Dare you remove your mask, risk being betrayed?
Discover who you are, before you fade.
But keep part of yourself secret, if you are wise.
Life is nothing but an unending masquerade
Remove your mask and be betrayed.
Confession.I sold hope.Confession.4 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
Out of stock.
Haiku Theory Part 1 -2009-A Lot of Words About A Little PoemHaiku Theory Part 1 -2009-6 years ago in Philosophical More Like This
An Introduction to Haiku Structures
A haiku poem cannot be defined according to the number of syllables and lines it contains (nor by the number of syllables in each line). Although I do not wish to go into the reasons why at this point (I will save that for a later discussion) the form of modern English haiku, as Haruo Shirane writes, is a short poem, usually written in one to three lines. (in Gilbert, 2009) At this point our definition sounds very vague. If the number of syllables and lines do not define a haiku poem, then what does? And if a haiku poem is simply a short one, two or three-line poem then what separates it from other forms of Western short-verse or, in the case of one-line haiku, a sentence?
Patricia Donegan writes, in agreement with the Western haiku community at large, that syllable counting... is not the important thing for haiku in English. Haiku is an experience, not an act of co
supernovae"Wouldn't it be great if we could watch a star explode?"supernovae1 year ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
It was just like her to say that. The violence of another world's ending was, to her, poetic. If our own sun exploded, I think she'd open up her arms to embrace it.
"I don't know that I'd want to be that close," I said.
"That's the cool part. You wouldn't have to be." But she still didn't think we were close enough.
That was how we always ended up like this, sitting in a car, driving to nowhere, with nothing but the sound of the tires on the highway and the company of the stars above us. She couldn't sit still long enough to color in the details, so we never did. We just kept driving.
She leaned back in the passenger seat and kicked her feet up, staring at the ceiling of the car as if it wasn't there.
"When stars exploded a long time ago, they painted pictures of them and wondered if the gods were looking down on them. What do you think we'll do when we get to see one?"
"Take a picture."
She shot an expression at me that I
DreamscapeI dreamed of vivid colours once,Dreamscape2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
of bloody red and inky blue,
while life was ruled by lonely gray,
washed-out black and too-bright white
that left its canvas' edges frayed.
A brush that painted only dreams unreached
and expectations unfullfilled,
left a drowning world and city ruins,
and endless roads untravelled.
Colour had long bled out and faded,
living on in distant memories
of a shining sun that dawns in red
and chases away the black of the night,
and a bright, wide sky drenched in blue
fighting the desert of white.
Ninja Santaninja santa in the nightNinja Santa5 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
silent while you're sleeping tight
slipping down the chim-a-nee
hiding in the christmas tree
ninja santa in the dark
eating cookies while you hark
the harold angels sing along
singing funny chistmas songs
wash the cookies down with milk
santa moves smooth as silk
leaving presents wrapped all nice
flying through the snow and ice
dasher, dancer, prancer, too
ninja santa's raindeer crew
ninja master old saint nick
ninja elves are sidekicks
a present for the first noel
jingle jingle ninja bells
he comes prepared with mistletoe
ninja santa -- ho ho ho
A Guide to OCTsOriginal Character Tournaments are all over deviantart and keep growing in popularity, but not everyone knows what they are or how to participate in them. Since they're hosted by individuals and not actually affiliated with the website itself, there are no guides available to help explain how they work. Hopefully, this FAQ will be helpful to anyone looking to get involved in OCTs.A Guide to OCTs5 years ago in Academic Essays More Like This
What is an OCT?
OCTs, or "Original Character Tournaments" are contests held here on deviantart in which you can pit your original characters against other people's characters in a comic-style battle-royale. To put it simply, it's a cross between an art competition and a storytelling contest.
OCTs can be hosted on someone's account, or they can have a tournament account of their own. OCTs are usually open to anyone with a deviantart account, although some are invite only. Information about who is eligible to audition will usually be clearly stated s
Empty Box I left a box on your porch the night before I broke up with you. It was cardboard, medium-sized, bigger than a breadbox, smaller than a refrigerator. There weren't any words or anything on it. It was blank. And empty.Empty Box5 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
There was a message on the answering machine when I got home from work the next day, and I knew it was from you but couldn't stand the blinking red light anymore.
If you had looked, which I'm sure you hadn't, you would have seen that the corners were battered, the edges were dirty. Maybe if you had understood, we would still be together.
A few years ago, when we first met, you gave me a box. It was small, black, hard. It was difficult to open and close; you had to be careful not to snap your fingers. Inside, on velvet lining, w
SOPA 2014: Voluntary Agreements, TPP, and StaydownEDIT 3/22: Added some links, some additional notes, and some credit. (Also added some of the same on 3/17)SOPA 2014: Voluntary Agreements, TPP, and Staydown10 months ago in Articles & Interviews More Like This
A few days ago, I started seeing journals once again ranting about how SOPA is going to take away our fandom, or even our original content, in my feed here on deviantART. I did a search for reputable sources talking about it, and found just enough to be worth discussing, but not enough to justify the panic that's happened. I vowed I would do a journal about it come the weekend.
Since then, it's blown up. I've had numerous new faves on my old write-up of SOPA 201, despite it having "2013" in the title. I wish I could be happy as well as flattered, but the piece of potential legislation I wrote about then isn't the one people are talking about now. People have been calling for me to explain the "New" SOPA, but research to cite has been scant and so has my time. I have many more obligations now than I did then, and I wrote the last article at a much less busy time
sell outsI've seen him around the club enough to recognize his face at local shows. He hangs out in the pit while I scream over the rail during a gig, so we never talked, until tonight. And when we did, I showed off the ring as a warning, and he laughed, shook his head no and showed off his own.sell outs4 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
We get to know each other over our first round of beers. David starts off the conversation with one of my favorite questions. "Favorite band."
His eyebrows shoot up. "No shit?"
"Yep. Keep it quiet, though. My husband doesn't know."
"Oh?" He smirked. "He a Megadeth fan?"
"I wish." I took a long pull from my bottle. "He doesn't like metal much really. Thinks it's useless noise for the uneducated."
David nods. "My wife's the same way, but I got her to like some Sabbath and Maiden eventually. Before me, she only liked Enter Sandman."
"At least you got her to like Sabbath."
"Thankfully. Dio Sabbath. Works every time."
We have a toast to Dio and drain our beers. He tells me Sabbath is his favorit
I feel a bit empty today. I got up on the wrong side of the bed. I stumbled around my flat with precise impreciseness. My head felt like it had been bludgeoned by a baseball bat...I could barely reach my bathroom with my concrete feet. With every step on the tiled floor an echo shuddered through my skeleton. I reached for the toothpaste before inspecting myself in the mirror.I feel a bit empty today.5 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
My god I look dashing in the mirror today...wait a minute... I appear to be missing a face...
Under close inspection I did appear to be missing a face and an assortment of other limbs. "MY GOD I'M INVISIBLE AND EVERYTH...oh no wait a minute that's a window not a mirror" my voice was as barren and empty as the authors jokes. I turned round towards my actual mirror mounted just beyond my slightly rugged sink. "Nope still missing a face...wait this isn't another window is it?" I queried this as I checked the mirror at various angles in the room and from various philosophical viewpoints. This time it was a m
to love senselessly.we lost our sense of sight when we cowered under the false hope that one day we would feel brave enough to tackle our greatest weaknesses - ourselves. we always believed a choice was made whether to love blind or to love brave. we chose the former but it was later proved that both were possible.to love senselessly.5 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
we lost our sense of smell in the kitchen when smoke was all that filled our lungs and we decided we kind of liked it. you said it was the smell our hearts gave off when they were vulnerable and passionate. i asked if that meant every victim of house fires and forest fires die of love and you just whispered that we all die of love.
we lost our sense of touch when we covered ourselves in sand, laced ourselves in glitter and rinsed ourselves with vinegar. by then, we knew every patch of skin as our own, every bone as the walls that kept our house in tact and every curve as the highway bends that led away from our home.
we lost our sense of hearing when traffic became our alarm clock, when rain be
Apocalyptic FunChaos thumping on fragile mindsApocalyptic Fun4 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Fear abides in eyes of hope
Pounding beats of terror binds
Life's tide held by fraying rope
Mercury skies and atomized lives
Nations turn to destructive hives
Molten blood in mouths of stone
Until only one is totally alone