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posted by jarik
Here's some advice for all you budding poets out there. Start a poetry journal and start writing a poem everyday.

To get started all you need is a notebook and a pencil. Everytime you're inspired by something you've experienced write it down while it's still fresh in your mind.

You'll find that a lot of what you've written is rubbish but that does not matter. What matter is you're getting into the habit of writing on a regular basis and by doing that your skills as a poet will improve with the practice you will get by keeping a poetry journal.
posted by Pushkin319
Remember that you want to make a good impression and that the presentation of your manuscript is the first step. When you're preparing a manuscript, whether it's an article, a short story, or a novel, there are certain styles that make your piece stand out. You want it to look professional—not like the large percentage of manuscripts that appear as if the writer took no care at all in the presentation.

Writers disagree on whether editors really care about the typeface and the line spacing and whether the manuscript follows a certain style or format. Some editors don't care about these things,...
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posted by Cinders
It's finally here! All the submissions to this month's poetry contest is included within this soapbox, for your convenience. For the sake of the judges, I am allowing two weeks from today for them to peruse the works herein and then create a pick with their top five choices. The judges may confer amongst themselves if they wish. Input from the Fanpop community should also be considered. Comments on particular poems are welcome. The only thing that is prohibited is pointing out (subtly or obviously) which poem is yours. As a poet, that may disqualify you from the competition, for betraying the...
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posted by Emoshinell
To me, Will is more than a name. This is what it means to me:

W is for the softest whisper in the sweetest breeze of spring.

I is for the icy chill that goes down my spine when you spare me a small glance my way.

L is for the look my penetrating eyes give you when you turn away from me; when I want most for you to stay close to me.

And L is for the unconditional and irrevocable and irrational love I feel for your soul.

Without you, my heart is silent. You arethe only one who has touched my heart and it will always be yours. You are my only love. I've left my heart with you; look over it closely....
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added by vampiress015
Source: BBC
Ladies and gentlemen, writers of all ages (especially teens/preteens) and species (except mosquitoes), welcome! I'm bored, have a writer's block made of concrete and am feeling particularly resentful towards the curse known as textese/chatspeak. (Seriously, whatever happened to good ol' morse code?) So I decided the best way to give my writing a rest is to help out with yours! Aren't I generous? :)

Before I begin, I'd like to point out that I am not an expert by any means. I'm not a writing guru or a master advice-giver-person. I am simply a fellow writer who wants to pass on what she's learned;...
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added by whitelion
posted by whitelion
love, a word that can bring much joy or much pain
it can put the heart at ease or under strain
and as that word to each other we spoke
it made our hearts complete and not broke

a feeling unlike any other i felt
as you heavenly eyes made my heart melt
you were always the one, i could tell
cause from the moment i saw you in love i fell

the words to describe you a poet can never posses
you were always the one that was hard to impress
you wanted more than poetry and flowers could give
because only on true love your heart could live

to capture my heart for you it only took
one moment one smile and one unforgettable look
added by martemora15
posted by harold
The author considered. Then the author wrote:

Two opposites sat on a park bench

The author deleted

eating their curds and whey

as soon as it was typed, and replaced it with

and one wanted the other to leave.

The critic noted "That's really not very specific, is it? Two 'opposites'? Come on, you're going to have to be more specific than that."

The author considered. Then the author wrote:

The Republican sat down next to the Democrat on the park bench

and nodded, satisfied. The critic clucked his tongue. "Welll...it's not exactly original, is it? And how different are they, really? Honestly, you couldn't...
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added by roxy_cutegirl
posted by ToEkNeE
I woke up as usual. But there was something about today that was going to change. Unusual. I stumbled out of bed, opening my eyes to darkness. I wouldn't need to expect sunlight just yet. I clumsily found my way to the bathroom to take my shower.
For some reason, I wanted extremely hot water. Usually, I would have tepid water on, but this time, the water was blazing. The water beat my back with an intensity far beyond a human could ever intake. It was like hail was being shot at my skin, with a beat to it. The burning was far worse. When every droplet hit my skin, there would suddenly be a sharp...
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added by whitelion
Young and fresh and shining bright
Filled with wonder and delight
I see beauty, day and night
I am young enough

Whether it's Real or just Pretend
Possibilities have no end
There could be magic, 'round the bend
I am young enough

Dolls can move when I'm asleep
They come to life while I count sheep
And freeze whene'er I dare to peep
I am young enough

Book-friends all come out to play
My bed becomes a magic sleigh
Imagination rules the day
I am young enough

The sky can cry a lot of tears
The trees tell secrets; can't you hear?
The world's alive: to me that's clear
I am young enough

Grownups say the queerest words
Have...
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posted by Cinders
I've been slowly but steadily coming to the conclusion that poetry as an art form is quickly losing its flavor amongst the iPod generation. And I'm not talking about contemporary poets who don't get read by the masses, because as Gertrude Stein would say, "Those who are creating the modern composition authentically are naturally only of importance when they are dead because by that time the modern composition having become past is classified and the description of it is classical. That is the reason why the creator of the new composition in the arts is an outlaw until he is a classic." Or,...
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posted by whitelion
your smile, your eyes, your voice
as if you gave me a choice
everything about you i loved
all other feelings aside i shoved

on your every word i hung
and even among
a crowd, only you i see
nowhere else i would rather be

these feelings for you, that are kept inside
i can no longer hide
everything about you i admire
you are all i desire

so kind, so sweet, so passionate
everytime our eyes met
my heart would race
while looking at your smiling face

full of buety, life, and joy
with my emotions you play like a toy
like a wild beast, my emotions cannot be tame
and i don't even know your name
posted by iluvtheshow
Prologue:
"Harper! Aren't you happy she's eating with us?" Gwen asked happily. Harper shot her sister a glare. "It shouldn't be a big deal that your step-mother decides to eat with you." Harper spit out, looking back at the book she was reading. Gwen's face fell. She didn't care what Harper thought, she was going to make the best of this. Their step-mother, Lyn, hadn't eaten with them in 2 months. Gwen walked down the hall toward the kitchen, her sister's words echoing in her head.

Chapter 1 *Gwen*

Divorce. God, I HATE that word. It's like something something toxic. Something that can ruin lives...
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added by whitelion
posted by mrs-mindfreak
Meredith sat up in the middle of the night screaming. Again. She felt tears wet her eyes at another miserable attempt at sleep. She wanted to pull her sore eyes from her sockets. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t stay asleep. She wasn’t going to get any more sleep tonight, and Meredith knew that. She pulled off the sheets and slowly stood up. She wobbled slightly and held her head. These nightmares were going to be the death of her.
    Meredith crept down the hall and into the kitchen for a little snack. Maybe some warm milk would put her to sleep. She reached...
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Courtesy of the cartoonist, Clangnuts
Courtesy of the cartoonist, Clangnuts
Ah, the dreaded cliché! The worst feedback a writer can get is, "Well, it sounds sort of cliché, doesn't it?"

All authors want to be original. If someone even mentions that a writer's work reminds them of someone else's, the writer tenses up. "No, no, no, I'm nothing like him," he says swiftly. "I've never even read him."

"Yeah, but it's kinda like him," the reader persists, believing she is giving a compliment rather than an insult. "He's incredible, you should read him!"

The thing is-- it should be a compliment when a reader compares your work to...
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posted by Spotty_Vision21
I shouldn’t have shot the dog. I definitely shouldn’t have shot the dog. Even if he did chew upon my prized drumsticks, and feast upon my freshly-baked brownies. The little white-and-brown terror, Mickey, belonged to my neighbor. My neighbor, an 87-year-old chain-smoker named Mary, rarely left the confines of her living room. She sat, day in and day out, as her precious mutts wreaked havoc about the neighborhood.
You can see it! My house, the little beasts have chewed upon everything their gnashing, tiny, sharp little teeth could find. I did my best to keep them out, but the little bastards...
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