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that's a really interesting question. :cool:

right now, i haven't a clue.

what about you, annie? not eskimo nell, i hope :devil:
 
butters said:
that's a really interesting question. :cool:

right now, i haven't a clue.

what about you, annie? not eskimo nell, i hope :devil:
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There was a book called Freckles that I read many times as a youth, I always thought I'd make a good limberlost guard. a link
 
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There are so many aren't there? If it was a poem it would be The Listeners by Walter de la Mere. I can see that wood and how the rays of sunshine filter through the trees and only the ghosts are left to witness the traveler keeping his word. It has beauty in it's eeriness.
 
There are so many books I don't want to live in. Mad and dark, dystopian futures.
If I had to pick one to say Yes to...

From the Mixed-Up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler

Two kids end up living in The Metropolitan Museum of Art. It might be cool to live in a museum.
 
bronzeage said:
Nina September.
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I decided to check out your blog, bronzeage. You have some really good stuff posted there. Really good. I recommend it to others here who may not have looked into it, or may not have noticed you have a blog. There's a lot of stuff there that's not on Lit, and it's well worth the time it takes to read all of it.
 
theognis said:
I decided to check out your blog, bronzeage. You have some really good stuff posted there. Really good. I recommend it to others here who may not have looked into it, or may not have noticed you have a blog. There's a lot of stuff there that's not on Lit, and it's well worth the time it takes to read all of it.
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Thank you. I appreciate it very much.

I have led a life of very bad behavior, which has left me with a rich field to mine for material.
 
bronzeage said:
Thank you. I appreciate it very much.

I have led a life of very bad behavior, which has left me with a rich field to mine for material.
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You're welcome. And I'll just say that I understand where you're coming from.
 
theognis said:
You're welcome. And I'll just say that I understand where you're coming from.
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Emotional turmoil is my muse, either the heights or the depths. This means my production can be fairly low when things are smooth. Every once in a while, an old memory will stir up the sediment and I see something in the muddy water. If I produce a poem a year, which I think is worth sharing, that's pretty good, these days.

I never was much of a "Oh what a beautiful morning," kind of poet.
 
bronzeage said:
Emotional turmoil is my muse, either the heights or the depths. This means my production can be fairly low when things are smooth. Every once in a while, an old memory will stir up the sediment and I see something in the muddy water. If I produce a poem a year, which I think is worth sharing, that's pretty good, these days.

I never was much of a "Oh what a beautiful morning," kind of poet.
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We seem to view things through a similar lens. I was introduced happily to Literotica in the summer of 2008, but wrote nothing of my own for a good while, except for whatever writing came with contentedly editing the work of someone else. Later, in less happy times, I thought I'd experiment with writing a few things on my own, starting with a story based on an old memory. I was reasonably happy with that effort, but more recently, while attempting to write another such story, based on an even earlier memory, I realized I've lost whatever inclination I ever had to write. I suppose that's where we differ. Writing seems to be in your blood. It's become obvious it's not in mine.
 
theognis said:
We seem to view things through a similar lens. I was introduced happily to Literotica in the summer of 2008, but wrote nothing of my own for a good while, except for whatever writing came with contentedly editing the work of someone else. Later, in less happy times, I thought I'd experiment with writing a few things on my own, starting with a story based on an old memory. I was reasonably happy with that effort, but more recently, while attempting to write another such story, based on an even earlier memory, I realized I've lost whatever inclination I ever had to write. I suppose that's where we differ. Writing seems to be in your blood. It's become obvious it's not in mine.
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I am speaking specifically of poems.

I can rattle off stories as needed. I once did a Valentine's day thread in which I offered to write a scene for anyone who requested it, based on their av or profile pic. It was their choice to have it put in a public post or discrete email. I just went and found it again. I think I did more than two dozen scenes, but only three or four people are still here.
 
bronzeage said:
I am speaking specifically of poems.

I can rattle off stories as needed. I once did a Valentine's day thread in which I offered to write a scene for anyone who requested it, based on their av or profile pic. It was their choice to have it put in a public post or discrete email. I just went and found it again. I think I did more than two dozen scenes, but only three or four people are still here.
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More evidence writing is in your blood. But speaking of poetry, specifically, do you consider it to be a higher form of expression, at least for you, than writing in prose?
 
theognis said:
More evidence writing is in your blood. But speaking of poetry, specifically, do you consider it to be a higher form of expression, at least for you, than writing in prose?
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No, but I do consider it to be a different form. Each requires a different form of discipline to be well done. Poetry requires a higher understanding of the meaning of words, because the word defines the metaphor and the metaphor is the message. I read a lot of poems where I can see what the writer intended, but the actual meaning of the words is something else. This seldom happens in prose.
Prose requires a higher understanding of continuity and consistency. I don't think anyone is writing a new Illiad today. It takes a special eye to keep a story on track through 200 pages.
 
bronzeage said:
No, but I do consider it to be a different form. Each requires a different form of discipline to be well done. Poetry requires a higher understanding of the meaning of words, because the word defines the metaphor and the metaphor is the message. I read a lot of poems where I can see what the writer intended, but the actual meaning of the words is something else. This seldom happens in prose.
Prose requires a higher understanding of continuity and consistency. I don't think anyone is writing a new Illiad today. It takes a special eye to keep a story on track through 200 pages.
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Interesting response. As I said before, we seem to see things in a similar way.
 
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