Tag Archives: poetry

Learn To Read Like A Writer – Read What You NEED

Learn To Read Like A Writer - Read what you NEED

I don’t mind admitting I’m a selfish reader. I’ve always read exactly what I want for no other reason than, I felt like it. So I never paid much attention to whether or not it was useful or beneficial. But now, as a writer, whilst I still need some of that escapism by falling into a good book, I’ve come to realise I also need to read to aid my writing – and I’m not just talking about non fiction books that teach you writing skills. This is part one in a two part series, looking at reading like a writer – reading what you NEED and reading what you WANT. Continue reading

5 Reasons Bullying Made Me A Better Writer #1000Speak – Building On Bullying

5 Reasons Bullying Made Me a Better Writer

I had to coax myself into posting this. Not because I didn’t want to do a post for #1000Speak, but because bullying is one of those things that everyone has been affected by, and I am no exception. It’s all a little close to the bone. Bullying is one of those universal topics that touches the lives of almost everyone. But I want to focus on the positive. On why being bullied made me a better writer. Without having been bullied I wouldn’t have focused on writing in my youth, and I probably wouldn’t have realised writing was my dream. So am I compassionate with the bullies? No, probably not, I know that’s the point of 1000speak, but, I am grateful for the experience of bullying. Continue reading

Writespiration #31

Nepal

I took this photo in Nepal, the children playing with tyres on the uneven road still moves me. If you’re inspired by the photo write a few words, a poem, or a story and I will post them with my next writespiration.

The last writespiration #30 had some submissions, first up: Continue reading

Sacha is Broken.

Dark_Twisted_Wallpaper_5_

I am broken,

I am broken,

I am broken.

Lost, in a dark pit of self loathing, and scornful hatred.

My skin is crawling with the rank stench of pity.

Their pity.

Their pity is anchoring my heavy soul further into this dark pit.

I am a failure.

I am a failure.

I am a failure.

I don’t work. I am abnormal, and I am pitied.

My heart is solidifying with sympathy,

A coal like sludge suffocating the pain inside.

I am pitied.

Their repetitions of comfort agitating my twisted, unstable mind.

I can’t breathe,

I can’t breathe,

I can’t breathe.