Please respect each authors’ and poets’ copyright. The rights remain with the writers. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without expressed and written permission from each of the poems author’s is strictly prohibited and violates copyright laws in the country you are reading this work in as well as in the country you are trying to re-publish this work in. – Aurora Jean Alexander
It’s strange about humans
At this time of year
It’s supposed to be scary
But I have no fear
The days of the month do not matter to me
But sometimes it’s strange
The odd things that I see.
Like this thing on the floor
And what’s on the TV
It’s orange and it’s huge
Almost bigger than me.
I don’t have a clue as to why is it here
The same things appear
At the same time each year
Whatever it’s good for is far beyond me
In a couple more months they will bring in a tree.
Full moon smiles at night
waiting for us to go to sleep
so, he can bare his fangs and
sink them into our necks for
a red liquid meal. We die
a dry fleshly shell. A shell
people cry over and place
into the ground. Their tears
water the plants, which grow.pas
Four faces of the moon attract
his victims. During harvest
season when the vampires, werewolves,
and humans hunt for meat and blood.
Moon gorges itself until it grows
into a huge full moon, which turns dark red.
Harvest Moon, blood moon comes around Halloween
when spirits and other monsters can gather blood
for the full moon, so it can get full
enough to reach Harvest Moon, when the moon becomes full
of blood from people who sleeping or past out fangs
enter the neck either way. The full moon feeds without noise.
The moon rests on the new moon
so, it can feed again on the full moon.
On DSM Publishing I found a link to this blog post, written by Michael Cristiano on ‘A Writer’s Path’. Thanks Michael. I’m convinced many of us have exactly the same thoughts. (or at least most of the ones on your list.)
Not being able to write is a sad fact of life for a writer. There’s laundry to do, there’s food to cook, there’s sleep to be had. Worse, I have this pesky illness that eats up a lot of my time. I toil day in and day out to keep it at bay and under control. Sometimes, it creeps into my evenings, just when I think I’ve escaped. Worse, the horror of it all often keeps me awake at night and the dread fills my dreams with terror and sadness.
If you’ve ever taken a writing course of any kind, you’ve probably heard that phrase.
If you haven’t, the meaning is pretty simple: don’t come out and tell your readers everything they need to know. Instead, show them examples and specific situations that support what you’re trying to say. Doing so often solidifies your points a little better than straight telling.
Years ago when I got the idea to write a novel, I did what a lot of new writers do and created the uber perfect protagonist. In fact, when I came up with the original plot idea for The Devil’s Dance, I cast a Sarah Conner badass…and she was dull as dirt and utterly unlikable.
Bizarrely, when those critiquing didn’t like my protagonist, I made her more perfect thinking that would fix it. Um, no. Made it worse. They went from disliking her to kinda wanting to stab her in the face.
Why did I do this? Why did I default to super perfect?
Fear of being authentic. I had no concept of what it was like to be perfect. My family resembled Season Two of the Jerry Springer Show. After my parents divorced, my dad disappeared for years only to resurface and take a job as a cashier at Stop-N-Go so he could get out of paying the originally allotted child support. I was never #1 at anything (unless one counts truancy). Terrible…
When a book publisher offers a book deal to a new author, the contract will talk about ‘advances’ and ‘royalties’. These can be a little confusing to new authors, though a little bit of knowledge will go a long way to helping you fully understand what you are being offered.
In this article, you will learn about royalties and advances, you will discover what is usual for a book publisher to offer and you will find out how the publishing world is changing the way it provides advances and royalties.
I thought writing a novel was the hard part. I thought endless drafting and editing and proofreading involved the most work when it came to being a writer.
I was wrong. My debut novel has been on sale for a little less than a month, and I came to the conclusion very early on in its release that writing it was the easy (and far more enjoyable) part. Why? you ask.
Marketing. Marketing is a hard and seemingly endless process. Why is it so hard?
It’s been three years since I self published my first book. It’s definitely been a learning experience marked by relative successes and failures. As I mark the 3rd anniversary since I self-published Before the Legend , here are the top ten things I’ve learned over the course of three years in no particular order.
When I read a book I enjoy analogies and metaphors, provided the author hasn’t gone overboard with them. Knowing I still got to learn I pay close attention to what I like to read. In my opinion, a story, a book, even an adventure can be written in vivid and imaginative way when containing metaphors and/or analogies.
Lately I realized that an analogy and a metaphor can be similar. So I got research done.
What are analogies and metaphors? Are there good analogies and metaphors and which are the ones that should be avoided?
A metaphor is a figure of speech that identifies something as being the same as some unrelated thing for rhetorical effect, thus highlighting the similarities between the two. While a simile compares two items, a metaphor directly equates them, and so does not necessarily apply any distancing words of comparison, such as “like” or “as”. A metaphor is a type of analogy and is closely related to other rhetorical figures of speech which achieve their effects via association, comparison or resemblance – including allegory, hyperbole, and simile. (Source: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Metaphor)
An analogy is comparable to metaphor and simile in that it shows how two different things are similar, but it’s a bit more complex. Rather than a figure of speech, an analogy is more of a logical argument.
Famous metaphors and analogies
All the world’s a stage, and all the men and women merely players. They have their exits and their entrances. William Shakespeare
Art washes away from the soul the dust of everyday life. Pablo Picasso
I am the good shepherd, … and I lay down my life for the sheep. The Bible, John 10:14-15
All religions, arts and sciences are branches of the same tree. Albert Einstein
Chaos is a friend of mine. Bob Dylan
All our words are but crumbs that fall down from the feast of the mind. Khalil Gibran
If you want a love message to be heard, it has got to be sent out. To keep a lamp burning, we have to keep putting oil in it. Mother Teresa
America has tossed its cap over the wall of space. John F. Kennedy
A hospital bed is a parked taxi with the meter running. Groucho Marx
A good conscience is a continual Christmas. Benjamin Franklin
Let us be grateful to people who make us happy, they are the charming gardeners who make our souls blossom. Marcel Proust
And your very flesh shall be a great poem. Walt Whitman
Advertising is the rattling of a stick inside a swill bucket. George Orwell
Dying is a wild night and a new road. Emily Dickinson
Fill your paper with the breathings of your heart. William Wordsworth
Ex-pats returned to home impelled there like animals migrating to preview their racial graveyards.
We are closer to ants than to butterflies because very few people can endure much leisure.
Rats so big if put a harness on them they could have done a milk round.
Attacked like a police alsatian drunk on slaughterhouse blood.
Sunburnt red and sore like a baboon’s bottom.
The designers ideas buzzed like bees without a hive.
Aggrieved like a bulldog which has just been kicked in the ribs and had its dinner sneaked by the cat. P.G. Wodehouse
The butterfly of happiness even comes to call.(We tend to forget that happiness doesn’t come as a result of getting something we don’t have, but rather of recognizing and appreciating what we do have.)
Fluttered like a butterfly caught in a shutter.
Stuck in the corner, he resembles a clever dog that knows he’s going to be thrashed.
An appeaser is one who feeds a crocodile hoping it will eat him last.
You cannot make a man by standing a sheep on its hind-legs. But by positioning a flock of sheep, you can make a crowd of men.
All the enthusiasm of a man about to handle a dead snake. Groucho Marx
In the fog the car headlights swarmed in pairs like deep sea fish.
The air-conditioning purred like a doctored cat that never went out.
Lonesome like a dog on distant moon barking back to Earth.
Snarled and growled like a dog with two heads.
The queue reduced like a dying amoeba as the semi-circular mob oozed through the turnstile.
There is an eagle in me that wants to soar, and there is a hippopotamus in me that wants to wallow in the mud. Carl Sandburg
Your effrontery exhibits more neck than a giraffe.
As sharp as a ferret in a rat’s hole.
Unnecessary like trying to give a fish a bath.
The wicked thought slid into Claude’s head like a fox bellying under a farm fence
His brain would rattle about inside a gnat’s navel.
He was a white shade of pale like a goldfish that had been kept too long in a darkened room. Come to think of it his memory span was shorter than the three seconds a goldfish can remember.
As lost as a lump of butter in a greyhound’s throat.
She winced as though struck across the chops with a halibut.
He looked akin to a hairless dog trying to shake itself dry.
Happiness is a butterfly which, when pursued is always beyond our grasp, but which, if you sit down quietly, may alight upon you.
You are the hare of whom the proverb goes, Whose valour plucks dead lions by the beard. William Shakespeare
If we had a keen vision and feeling of all ordinary human life, it would be like hearing the grass grow and the squirrel’s heartbeat, and we would die of that roar which lies on the other side of silence.
The next and last part of this blog post is dedicated to smiles and laughter. The following originally appeared as winners of a “Worst Analogies ever written in a High School Essay Contest” in the Washington Post Style Invitational”. I hope you will have as much fun reading them as I had.
He spoke with the wisdom that can only come from experience, like a guy who went blind because he looked at a solar eclipse without one of those boxes with a pinhole in it and now goes around the country speaking at high schools about the dangers of looking at a solar eclipse without one of those boxes with a pinhole in it. Joseph Romm, Washington
She caught your eye like one of those pointy hook latches that used to dangle from screen doors and would fly up whenever you banged the door open again. Rich Murphy, Fairfax Station
The little boat gently drifted across the pond exactly the way a bowling ball wouldn’t. Russell Beland, Springfield
McBride fell 12 stories, hitting the pavement like a Hefty Bag filled with vegetable soup. Paul Sabourin, Silver Spring
From the attic came an unearthly howl. The whole scene had an eerie, surreal quality, like when you’re on vacation in another city and “Jeopardy” comes on at 7 p.m. instead of 7:30. Roy Ashley, Washington
Her hair glistened in the rain like nose hair after a sneeze. Chuck Smith, Woodbridge
Her eyes were like two brown circles with big black dots in the center. Russell Beland, Springfield
Bob was as perplexed as a hacker who means to access T:flw.quid55328.com\aaakk/ch@ung but gets T:\flw.quidaaakk/ch@ung by mistake Ken Krattenmaker, Landover Hills
Her vocabulary was as bad as, like, whatever. Unknown
He was as tall as a six-foot-three-inch tree. Jack Bross, Chevy Chase
The hailstones leaped from the pavement, just like maggots when you fry them in hot grease. Gary F. Hevel, Silver Spring
Her date was pleasant enough, but she knew that if her life was a movie this guy would be buried in the credits as something like “Second Tall Man.” Russell Beland, Springfield
Long separated by cruel fate, the star-crossed lovers raced across the grassy field toward each other like two freight trains, one having left Cleveland at 6:36 p.m. traveling at 55 mph, the other from Topeka at 4:19 p.m. at a speed of 35 mph. Jennifer Hart, Arlington
The politician was gone but unnoticed, like the period after the Dr. on a Dr Pepper can. Wayne Goode, Madison, Ala.
They lived in a typical suburban neighborhood with picket fences that resembled Nancy Kerrigan’s teeth Paul Kocak, Syracuse, N.Y.
John and Mary had never met. They were like two hummingbirds who had also never met. Russell Beland, Springfield
The thunder was ominous-sounding, much like the sound of a thin sheet of metal being shaken backstage during the storm scene in a play. Barbara Fetherolf, Alexandria
His thoughts tumbled in his head, making and breaking alliances like underpants in a dryer without Cling Free Chuck Smith, Woodbridge
The red brick wall was the color of a brick-red Crayola crayon. Unknown