I'm A Writer

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Being a writer myself, I tend to relate to all the things that people post. And without writers in the world, how would we have these amazing blogs? Therefore, I dedicate all my posts to you guys, who have helped me get this far.

~Up and running since 2/8/2012~

Creator, Manager, and Moderator: Lauren



NaNoWriMo 2012 Progress:
54305 / 60000 (90.51%)


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bbcsherlockian:

*whispers furiously* i am a writer

(via grainsfromthehourglass)

Asker j-al-givens Asks:
Could you reblog my short story I've posted called "Heavenly Oblivion" ? I'm trying not to sound desperate, but I'm trying to get my name out their as a writer. If you could, it'd be great. Thanks in advance.
im-a-writer im-a-writer Said:

Of course! :) everyone go check them out!

j-al-givens:

Heavenly Oblivion

            A church was perched between a collection of trees and perpendicular to a disintegrating road that ran down through small neighborhoods of rotting homes. I was inside of the maroon brick building, sitting on a pew awaiting the sermon. It was quaint, the building, and few people were inside. Most of them were aging or sickly or both and many carried small cloths that they gripped tightly, and coughed into.

            The rear doors opened, and I turned towards them and saw someone. My godfather entered, wheeling with him a man, who by his attire, seemed to be a pastor. He wore a black dress shirt with a white band wrapped beneath his collar. He too held a cloth that he would frequently cough into.

            I was on a streak of spiritual denial, and in my mind nothing, not the words of my godfather or the yelps and threats of damnation, would end it. Many times over, I would sit through sermons, and temporarily feel vitalized with the “spirit”, until I left through the doors of the Church and have my memory of the experience erased and my thoughts of rebellion and sin revamped.

            My godfather spotted me isolating myself from the people and the things around me. He walked over, and stared at me endearingly. I was not much of a sight to see, however; I was slouched in the pew haphazardly, and wiggled my fingers together and squeezed tight fists.

            “Are you ok man?” he asked.

            I didn’t answer, but for the pure need to comply in some form, I looked up to him and smiled. He was always a rather tall man, but today he seemed towering, like a lone building amongst the rubble. Even when I smiled, I was sure he knew the answer to his question. I brought my head back down towards my lap, and began my normal rituals of sleeping with my eyes open.

            The surrounding elderly and sick would gather themselves, and then walk to the pastor. They would lean down towards him in his chair, and hug him, or kiss him tenderly. He would whisper to them, and then beckon them away, which left a soft grin decorated on their face. The walls around me were stale, and with a stained hue, they cracked more and more, as the church aged rapidly. The air inside was filled with a must that lingered, and left the church as a living cemetery. I looked towards the ceiling and was overwhelmed by the harsh light shining from the hanging chandelier. At a last attempt at comfort, I twisted and turned on the stiff wooden pews, but to no avail. I finally stretched my legs against the dusty wooden floors, and submitted.

            Then, the service began, and led me farther and farther away from the presence of any sort of “spirit” and towards the ultimate cycle I was trapped in. Until, my godfather took stand behind the altar, and began to speak. His words were thunderous and shook the walls of the church.  The pale walls began to glow brightly, the air around me became a divine mist, and the chandeliers seemed to float on only the twinkling light that was coming down upon me and then only from the raw holy manifestation of the church and the spirit.

            I once more tried to find comfort on the pews, until I realized I was floating on a plump white cloud amongst the elderly and sick, with my godfather shouting words of righteousness and heavenly oblivion.

Asker Anonymous Asks:
I want to participate in NaNoWriMo this year, but my native language isn't english. Do you know if i can write it in my native kanguage?
im-a-writer im-a-writer Said:

Yes! Yes you can. :) I have a friend who knows someone writing it in German, so you can definitely do NaNo in your native language. 

Asker Anonymous Asks:
hey!!!!! I make my new frndx i want a help from u how could i empress them
im-a-writer im-a-writer Said:

We’re not a personal advice blog… I’m sorry, I really don’t know how to answer your question. 

her-small-words:

she whispered to her rusty belonging
the heavy key which was covered in cracked blue paint and rust
“lock me up, nice and tight,” she whispered to it
and she held it close, but it opened it’s wings and flew away

she whispered to her rusty belonging
the heavy pocket watch which was covered in gold finishing
“make the time pass quicker, won’t you,” she whispered to it
and she held it close, but it stopped ticking, and she began to wonder

she whispered to her rusty belonging
the heavy compass which was covered in silver finishing
“help me find my way, please,” she whispered to it
and she held it close, but the dial stopped spinning, and she wept in despair 

she whispered to her rusty belonging
the heavy heart which was covered in scars and chips
“i heard that all your secrets pour out when your heart is broken,” she whispered to it
and she held it close, but she dared not bandage it until she found her key again

hello everyone from IAW! I just wanted to share this poem with you, because I wanted people to read it, and give feedback if you can. :) It’s my most well written poem, and it’s very personal to me.

phoenix—tears:

overused-typewriter:

One day, all was fine at the Schoenfeld Marine Sanctuary and Rehabilitation Center (SMSRC). Ella’s father was out on another “discovery trip” and her mother was tending to the animals as usual. That was until Marybeth, Ella’s mother, received news that Ella’s father, Dr. Richard, had gone missing while studying a new sea star species in the Bermuda Triangle. Now Ella, her best friend, Blakelyn, and her faithful companion, Flip, must go and rescue Dr. Richard. Her mother is weary, but that cannot be resolved at a time like this. Action must be taken and Ella plans on doing just that with the aid of her best friend and god-mother. Their faith in one another will be tested and their courage will rise to the occasion. Ella will be thoroughly pressured to think outside the box, will that faze her? The only thing she can do is to hope…and to find the truth. What will the outcome be?
A novel by polaroid-poet 

my best friend’s novel <3 you can find it on amazon! Here

Go check it out! You might find it’s a great purchase (: I know I personally have a signed copy, and I love it! 

phoenix—tears:

overused-typewriter:

One day, all was fine at the Schoenfeld Marine Sanctuary and Rehabilitation Center (SMSRC). Ella’s father was out on another “discovery trip” and her mother was tending to the animals as usual. That was until Marybeth, Ella’s mother, received news that Ella’s father, Dr. Richard, had gone missing while studying a new sea star species in the Bermuda Triangle. Now Ella, her best friend, Blakelyn, and her faithful companion, Flip, must go and rescue Dr. Richard. Her mother is weary, but that cannot be resolved at a time like this. Action must be taken and Ella plans on doing just that with the aid of her best friend and god-mother. Their faith in one another will be tested and their courage will rise to the occasion. Ella will be thoroughly pressured to think outside the box, will that faze her? The only thing she can do is to hope…and to find the truth. What will the outcome be?

A novel by polaroid-poet 

my best friend’s novel <3 you can find it on amazon! Here

Go check it out! You might find it’s a great purchase (: I know I personally have a signed copy, and I love it! 

(via rising-with-the-tides)

piecebybeautifulpiece:

robotsquid:

latenightspooky:

I need to rant about this:

image

Also known as the best writing program ever! It’s a full-screen writing program!

So you open it up, and it looks like this:

image

You’re thinking, “Ok, so what? It’s a screen with a…

Click the title to read more! It’s SO customization  I bet it will cut down on those distractions ;) and it’s so gorgeously laid out too! 

(via rising-with-the-tides)

Asker pink-akachan Asks:
Hi there!! I need to ask a mighty big favor from you. Today is my older sister's birthday. The big 18! Since I'm only in 8th grade, with no job, I have no clue what I could possibly do for her! So I came up with a lovely idea. I will help her gain followers. So would you mind helping me surprise my big sissy. Her tumblr is wizardpiss. If you decide to help me, I will be so happy! I love her to death and I wish I could like fly her to Paris or something but I'm a broke joke.
im-a-writer im-a-writer Said:

Aw, that would be so cool! :D I usually don’t give out too many shoutouts, but it’s really nice you are helping her get followers. Everyone wish wizardpiss.tumblr.com a happy birthday and go check her out!

I wouldn’t mind sending my sister and I both to Paris to shop, but unfortunately I’m the same.