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Welcome!

#CRLiterature is a hub for all things Literature on deviantART. Run by the Literature Community Volunteers and community members, you should watch us to keep track of goings-on throughout the Literature community.

We post monthly news updates from the Community Volunteers, as well as contests, prompts, and chat events from throughout the community!

January Book Club: DAWN Wrap-Up

Sat Jan 31, 2015, 11:35 AM
CRLiterature Book Club Journal Header by GrimFace242


Hellooooo deviantART readers!


I hope you really enjoyed reading DAWN with us this month. It's a really awesome book by one of sci fi's greatest writers, and I know that y'all have had a LOT of things to say about it.  Also, just note, from here on out, there will be SPOILERS for the WHOLE BOOK. So make sure you finish before reading the rest of this journal, k?

Butlerdawn by PinkyMcCoversong

I hope you have a lot more things to say, 'cause now that the book is over, you either want to read the rest of the series or throw the book at a wall, amirite?!

First of all, here's some fabulous art for some of Octavia Butler's other books:


Parable of the Sower by EranFolio
Clay's Ark by AlanGutierrezArt Shori by Kimbot Take Root in the Stars by Rin-Uzuki Babel by Diegopezeta


So. Let's get down to the discussion.

  • 1. When Lilith begins Awakening humans, she's very focused on getting only women awake first, even though Tate really encourages her to Awaken men. Do you think Lilith's logic made sense, or should she have brought Joe out first?
  • 2. How do you feel about the time skips in the book? Part III starts about a year after Part II ends. Did this throw you off? Or do you think it was an effective way of telling the story.
  • 3. One of the themes of the book that is especially highlighted in the second half of the book, after Lilith begins Awakening other humans, is the Cold War. At one point, Tate says, "It was the cultures of the U.S. and the U.S.S.R. that counted." How do you think this book would be different if it had been written in this decade, rather than in the 80s?
  • 4. Joe brings up eugenics. Do you think that the lines the Oanakli have crossed, in terms of genetically eliminating disease and deformities, are at all comparable to the Nazi's eugenics programs that Joe referenced? Why or why not? And where is the line with eugenics?
  • 5. How did the ending make you feel? Are you inclined to read the rest of the series? Why or why not?
Let's hear your opinions! And remember, the top participant this month will get a copy of TIN STAR by Cecil Castellucci courtesy of Macmillan. AND, due to low participation in Book Club over the holidays, and great participation this month, we're giving that participant the prizes from November and December book clubs as well!

Castelluccitinstar by PinkyMcCoversong 

MOAR BOOKS:

Gouldresurrectionparty by PinkyMcCoversong Heppermannpoisonedapples by PinkyMcCoversong Toughheadfortheedgekeepwaking by PinkyMcCoversong Rushbybeneathbeautiful by PinkyMcCoversong


Aaaaaand thank you for your patience while the lovely DrippingWords has tallied up all of the participation-y goodness from the months of June-December 2014! The winner of the giant box of books in my livingroom, which contains one each of every book we gave away for book club in 2014, is vespera! Thanks so much for being an awesome participant, vespera! vespera, please note MEEEEE with your shipping info!

Our next big prize bucket will be given away at the end of June 15. Dig in, y'all. Read with us!

Thanks so much for helping us kick off CRLiterature Book Club with such style this year. We're psyched to keep this momentum going! Have your say on DAWN, and then check out our next read: "Town of Cats" a short story by Haruki Murakami, with fearless leader neurotype! Keep an eye on CRLiterature for her announcement journal.

Skin by Dan Leveille

'Fairy Tale' Contest

Journal Entry: Sat Jan 31, 2015, 8:05 AM

Fairy Tale


BestestFriendContest Group ENTRIES

Bestest Friend (DreamingAutumn) and I are back with another contest! :eager:



:bulletred: This contest's theme is 'Fairy Tale'! What does that mean? Well,  why don't you just ruminate, whilst I illuminate the possibilities...

:bulletyellow: Simply put, you write something related to "fairy tale", that could be ANYTHING. Want to write your own fairy tale? Go for it! Want to modernize or rewrite the ending for an existing tale, do it! You can even incorporate another element into it. Maybe it's a cross between Sci-Fi and Fantasy or a Mystery and Fantasy tale! Or do some combination, how about a Snow White Sci-Fi where she is the one kissing the prince awake? ;P The possibilities are endless.

:bulletgreen: Want to donate something? Feature, points, pm, a print, something you made? Note either IrrevocableFate or DreamingAutumn. Or donate straight to DreamingAutumn! If you donate a prize you're still eligible to enter and win!

Turquoise Bullet - F2U! BestestFriendContest is the group, join requests are closed, but feel free to watch it! Submissions are open to all, but we only accept entries to our contests! It is NOT a general submission group.

:bulletblue: ENTIRES CAN BE FOUND HERE



Rules


:bulletred: Literature Only (Prose and Poetry)
:bulletyellow:  FanFiction allowed!
:bulletgreen: MUST be a new piece.
Turquoise Bullet - F2U! Collaborations are allowed (maybe even encouraged :D)
:bulletblue: Keep within dA Submission Guidelines; and make it PG-13 please!
:bulletred: 1 Entry Per Deviant
:bulletyellow: MUST be submitted to the group gallery folder!
:bulletgreen: Prose: 3,000 Word Maximum
Turquoise Bullet - F2U! Poetry: 75 Line Maximum
:bulletblue: Entries must be received by MARCH 1st, 11:59PM EST


STARTS: JANUARY 30th, 2015


DEADLINE: MARCH 1st, 2015 11:59PM EST




1st Place


:bulletred: 3 Month Sub (OfOneSoul)
:bulletyellow: GLITTER MAGIC
:bulletgreen: 1 Journal from DreamingAutumn (Winner gets first pick and recipient MUST be in the continental 48 United States unless willing to pay for shipping.)
Turquoise Bullet - F2U! 1 Custom Chibi Paper-craft from IrrevocableFate
:bulletblue: 1 Rainbow Loom Bracelet from DreamingAutumn
:bulletred: 50 x 50 Gif by Amarantheans
:bulletyellow: Your choice of 3 Steam Games from 113420 (You can pick from titles such as BioShock, FTL, Garry's Mod, LIMBO, Metro 2033, Orcs Must Die 2, Orcs Must Die GOTY, Papers Please, some X-Com games, AND MORE)
:bulletgreen: 1 Poem from LadyOfFrost
Turquoise Bullet - F2U! 50 Points from Riemea


2nd Place


:bulletred: 1 Month Sub (OfOneSoul)
:bulletyellow: GLITTER MAGIC
:bulletgreen: 1 Journal from DreamingAutumn (Recipient MUST be in the continental 48 United States to receive, unless willing to pay for shipping.)
Turquoise Bullet - F2U! 1 Fairy Tale related Chibi Paper-craft from IrrevocableFate
:bulletblue: 1 Rainbow Loom Bracelet from DreamingAutumn
:bulletred: Your choice of 3 Steam Games from 113420 (You can pick from titles such as BioShock, FTL, Garry's Mod, LIMBO, Metro 2033, Orcs Must Die 2, Orcs Must Die GOTY, Papers Please, some X-Com games, AND MORE)
:bulletyellow: 1 Poem from LadyOfFrost
:bulletgreen: 30 Points from Riemea


3rd Place


:bulletred: 200 Points (OfOneSoul)
:bulletyellow: GLITTER MAGIC
:bulletgreen: 1 Journal from DreamingAutumn (Recipient MUST be in the continental 48 United States to receive, unless willing to pay for shipping.)
Turquoise Bullet - F2U! 1 Fairy Tale related Chibi Paper-craft from IrrevocableFate
:bulletblue: 1 Rainbow Loom Bracelet from DreamingAutumn
:bulletred: Your choice of 3 Steam Games from 113420 (You can pick from titles such as BioShock, FTL, Garry's Mod, LIMBO, Metro 2033, Orcs Must Die 2, Orcs Must Die GOTY, Papers Please, some X-Com games, AND MORE)
:bulletyellow: 1 Poem from LadyOfFrost
:bulletgreen: 20 Points from Riemea







Point Pool:
700 Points from IrrevocableFate
50 Points from prettyflour (Donated to IrrevocableFate)
200+ Points from DreamingAutumn from last contest
400 Points from BlackBowfin
500 Points from GrimFace242


THANK YOU SO MUCH TO EVERYONE WHO HAS DONATED PRIZES, YOU ARE ALL SUPER FABULOUS AND FANTASTIC.





Winners Announced: 2-3 Weeks after contest has ended.



JUDGES


:iconirrevocablefate: :icondreamingautumn: :iconnamelessshe: :iconmagicaljoey: :iconnaktarra:




Who's Who On Da: Issue 2

Fri Jan 30, 2015, 12:49 PM by Medoriko:iconmedoriko:
Hey everybody! Medoriko here with something I have been wanting to do for awhile. :heart: I enjoy doing feature articles, but I have realized more and more that a lot of features people do (and I'm super guilty of this) involve people that are more known in the literature community here. Or, in my case, it's a feature of people I'm good buddies with. There's an incredible amount of talent hiding in the corners of dA, and I want to give some spotlight to those that haven't gotten the recognition they deserve. We have all been there, and you gotta start somewhere right? Sometimes that's the push we need when we're new to dA, and just getting started. This is also for deviants who aren't new, but may be under the radar a bit. Either way, this is a good way to get some glimpse into who's out there in this big world that is the lit community on deviantArt.

Thus the entire point of this feature article series I'd like to call: “Who's Who on dA”. It will be feature articles spotlighting some lesser known dA writers. Hopefully, this will serve to get some views/attention their way. Or, at the very least, make their day for a bit. :love:

If you have any people in mind that you think should be featured in any of the Who's Who Issues, feel free to note me privately with their dA name, why you think they should be featured, and maybe some pieces you think need to be included.


I'm sure you yourself know plenty of talented people writers in the lit community!

Now, onwards to Issue 2. :la::heart:

Toetag001

DollThere was a doll made of ugly clay
that a lonely muse created one day.
Hair of moss and eyes of emerald and amethyst,
she was put upon a shelf and forgotten.
One day a man who was walking alone,
stole the doll away for his own.
He gave it to his son out of love,
but the son already had a favorite one.
So the new doll was forgotten by the boy
in the shadow of the other toy.
She would shed silver tears alone
while he dressed the other doll in robes of gold.
HushedThe music stops, the void is again emptied,
my ears fed only whirring and ringing.
The tears blur my sight,
and my hands are too frozen to move.
I am trapped in silence
and it's driving me insane.
Crushed by a HeelI want to go to all places,
see every person,
kiss every flower,
hear every song sung.
But they cut my wings,
they don't want me to fly.
They laugh and they cheer
while I scream and I cry.

The Crew of the ShannonI awoke to Snippers crawling on my chest, pawing at my lips to wake me. The ship rocked back and forth violently, so much so that I tripped when I stood. I grabbed my assets and ran out the door, rain pouring from gray, menacing clouds above, lightning flashing and thunder crackling, the winds whipping about the strands of what was left of my ship's once glorious sails. I ran down below, screaming in an effort to rouse my crew to come and aid the ship, but they lay still, unmoving in their hammocks. I approached my first mate and hit his shoulder, flipping him out of his and kicking him on the floor. "Get up you flithy idiot, all hands a-deck!" I screamed, but nary did he move. I knelt with as much balance as a drunkard and shook him by the shoulders, crying for him to wake. He was cold, still, stiff... "D-dead?!" I whispered to myself in terror, stumbling back into another of the crew's hammocks. Riled, he coughed, and moaned in agony. I turned and held his shivering hands, tears gush The Mirror Eleanor        There exists, somewhere in some place, a mirror, with a bronze frame in a twisted fashion. It is no ordinary looking-glass, however, as it contains magical properties unexplained by geniuses. Crafted by a dying fey king, it's as beautiful as it is terrible, as lively as it is stagnant. This mirror, which is called Eleanor, is very old and has been owned by many souls in the time it has existed.
        One such owner was a very wealthy man with a handsome son. The son was sought after by many women, some after his face and others his inheritance, but none he was foolish enough to keep. However, the son was quite a smart fellow, and would test the ladies, often teaching them a lesson of vanity and greed, in a strange routine: The son brought the dame to his household for dinner, and afterwards strolled arm in arm with her down a decored hall, into a lavish library, where hung the mirror Eleanor, hidden behind a sheet. The son excused himse
The Scarecrow, the Garden, and the Firey Snake                There was once upon a time, in another land, a Scarecrow, who stood watch over a rose garden. (Why you'd put a scarecrow in a rose garden, nobody knows...) She loved this garden with all of her straw heart, and protected it day and night. (While the crows ate the corn in the field where any other farmer would've put her, but I digress ^^; ) One day, a snake made of fire threatened to burn all of the roses to ash. The scarecrow was sad at this, she didn't want to lose her lovely garden. So, right as the snake came slithering in, she picked it up and walked into a river, destroying the snake. But alas, her straw burned up and she was no more. However, her ashes spread among the garden, and the roses bloomed ever so beautifully...

Amarantheans

My love the moon.
Winter's white blanket,
caresses the ground so tight.
I look up into the sky,
bathed in reflected light.
She calls to me,
the lovely gentle moon.
I sigh as she hides,
the clouds they make her swoon.
To say I love her,
would do my heart no justice.
Love is just a simple word,
not great enough for the way I feel.
Can there be no other emotion,
Lust is closer but it is not this real?
Looking up at her heavenly body,
I grow jealous of the stars.
I may be closer to her,
Yet up there it dosen't seem so far.
Winter is slowly biting into my bones,
goodby my love, I turn away.
With all my love- Earth.
GoldenMountain peaks draw her,
Closer down, bringing us light,
From golden bosoms.
Resolved!Resolution
I promise to,
remember,
what I say.
I promise to,
do,
what I write.
I will...
Lose 30 pounds,
I am too hungry!
Go on vacation,
As soon as I finish.
Eat healthy,
One more candy bar.
Go to church,
Next Sunday.
Be Nice,
You son of a B****!
Not be a pushover,
Your right I’m dumb.
Get more organized,
Just throw that over there.
To accomplish goals,
After this nap.
Be more active,
I need to rest.
I Promise,
Not to change,
Ever!

How to Eat a SoulScene 1
The sun shines brightly through the window directly onto a purple chase where Jena sees her fathers form relaxing as she wakes. Her eyes light up with excitement as she has not seen him in weeks. She rushes over to his side and kneels down and lets out a breath that she had not realized she was holding, as she looks up at her fathers face.
“I have missed you so, daddy! When did you get back?” She jumps up beside him on the chase. What she wouldn’t give to be able to wrap him in a giant hug.
“I never left, love. You know I always look over you.” He insists. “Well, we don’t get to talk long this morning, I think I hear your mother outside the door.”
Jena’s shoulders drop and she lets out a sad sigh. “Daddy, why doesn’t she like it when I talk to you?”
He looks her in the eyes and shakes his head. “She doesn’t understand, that’s all. I love you, sweetie.”
“I love you too daddy.
Letter to AuthorsAny Author,
You are an author whether or not you are published. The day that you sit down and start typing or putting pen to paper; you become an author. I know that alot of us belittle ourselves everytime that someone asks us, what we do. "Oh, I am a writer but not published." That is what we say, before giving the other person a chance to give us feedback. We have already severed the connection.
From this day onward, when someone asks what it is you do, you tell them; "I am a writer." Then you stop, don't add that next part, they may ask what you write. You know what, the person you are talking to may be interested in your work. Even better, the one person that you are talking to might just be what is standing in between you and being published.
I would be lying if I said that I have never uttered that statement followed by the words, but not published. Today, let us agree to never utter those words again. Today, let us stand together because we are writers and we are authors. We too
Twilights DanceIn a moonless night,
watching twilight dance around,
circling the heavens.


Jchrispole

Mechanical affairs a JCP Short storyIt was nearing the late afternoon and the sun shone like a spotlight through the dirty, old kitchen window. Well, that isn’t the way I would have explained it, I’m not that poetic. However I did want to start off this story with a nice bit of imagery. What was I talking about? Oh yeah. So I was in the kitchen making myself a sandwich. That doesn’t sound nearly as pretty as before but what can you do. I would have asked one of the workers who were on break to do it but it was the weekends and a holiday was coming up so pretty much everybody except a few select people left and aren’t coming back until Tuesday. I however live here so I’m not going anywhere.
I was making a sandwich called the Albatross and the reason why I named it after a bird is because my boss really likes birds so practically everything here has something to do with them either in name or in shape. The house I live in is called “The Owl Nest.” From the outside, it just looks li
Taste For AdventureGraham woke up the same time every morning. 8:37 A.M. It was something that she had done over and over and over again since she was taken in by the priests. As she opened her eyes and took in the sight of the bright light pouring in from the window, highlighting her blue and white quilt and the wooden floor of her quarters, she had a strong urge to just keep right on sleeping. But she couldn’t just sleep the day away; for the same reason why she didn’t anyday. she had duties to attend to in the monastery.
Sluggishly, she sat up and wiped the clumped up hair out of her eyes. She pushed away the thick quilt and pulled her feet out from underneath, allowing her to swing around and place them by her bedside. she stood up and stretched a little, attempting to purge the last bit of sleepiness from her body. She stared out the somewhat dirty glass of the large window just by her bed. Outside was Asphodel, arguably one of the prettiest regions in the land.
Fingers of continental la
Twisting in the WindAs the mighty sun stares down upon the deep expanse of the American desert wasteland, the heat roasts the floor of the biome like a crucible, turning each individual grain of sand into embers which fly on the wings of invisible birds of wind, smashing into the settlers and ranchers of the land as they attempt to live in this unforgiving land, fighting the harshness of the terrain. Many who live in places to the East, where new fancy gizmos such as the automobile and the radio create the closest thing to a paradise since the Garden of Eden, never seem to acknowledge the hardships of the West. But anybody who has ever gone out there and returned alive could tell you otherwise.
But even with the pain of living in the Desert, many still did. This included the lone rancher who stood in his patch in front of his farmhouse, tending to the short rows of crops that sat boxed in by a dried out, cracking wooden fence. As the sweat accumulated in colonies across his forehead, he reached up with th

-Better World: Chapter 1-
    Snow fell all the time in Everfall, that’s why it was named “Everfall: the land of endless snowfall.” Appropriate title, one would think. Though on this dull afternoon, the snowing had subsided to a light drizzle, resulting in a few single snowflakes fluttering down from the heavens. To Deci, they were just barely visible; like particles of dust in a dimly lit room.
       For what felt like an hour, Deci had been lying on her back staring up at the sky. She was waiting to begin her lesson with Master Flame, a scholar from a university in one of the larger human cities as well as the man that Deci’s father had hired to teach her about Everfall history and magic. He was late, once again, so Deci had to wait in the courtyard of Maulmarch Manor for him once again.
       The courtyard had been blanketed by a thick sheet of snow, at least a foot deep. But to Deci, it only felt like an 8th of an inch thick. So ins
SH!FT: Introduction
Nothing. That’s what the man felt. Nothing. Not the kind of nothing where there are no emotions. The kind where you aren’t taking in the sights you see in your eyes, the sounds you hear in your ears, taking the data that your body, the piece of mechanical ingenuity that it is, and not looking over it, not studying or observing the things you see. He was just lying there, with nothing else to do.
The reason behind this was simple….there was nothing to feel. For who knows how long the unnamed figure had been lying down on the hard wooden floor staring up at the ceiling. He couldn’t remember anything. He couldn’t remember where he was, how much time had passed, what he was doing, what had happened to cause him to end up here. He couldn’t remember faces, names, events, stories, ideas. He couldn’t remember when he had woken up or why he was asleep to begin with. He couldn’t even remember his own name.
He was not quite sure at what time did he
Science Fairs aren't always FairThe Science Fair is the first time when a child can properly experience a real panic attack. Especially if you’re a slacker. For most B+ average kids, they just want to do it and be done with it. Most C+ average kids want the same thing, but not quite hard enough to get off their little rumps and do it.
Albert was a C+ average student. Not necessarily his fault if you ask him. He was planning on getting around to making his project, he just didn’t account for how soon the Fair would be. Even though he was given a nine months notice. So the day arrived much quicker than he thought it would and that's when he realised that he had spent zero percent of the nine months doing anything but sitting on the couch watching TV. He had to consider his options which was the alternative project that could be done in five seconds; like the cup filled with dirt or the “which brand of paper towel is stronger” project.
Of course, he was saved when he remembered not too long ago,


sleepysheepdog

ares and the beads of bloodbath sweatthis is how the world expects a girl like
me to live: dressed in a shapeless sackcloth
ready to shove it hastily up to my ribs for
easy access and to hang my strawstuck hair
haloing my head in stigma in solitude in
wretched isolation. if i needed to ask
for approval to come into contact with
flesh sparking to electric volts; if i
must first be allowed permission to drop
to my knees and undulate, to kneel and
nod in acquiescence for your hips & hailfire;
if you have to grant me a concession for
intimacy; if i must plea for union; if i
should clamor for the phantom of a body
to hover over my body the way it only can
in the
dark hymn
of winter solstice
the prehorizon madness
of dusktime murmurs
if i am required to scrape myself raw in
supplication for something existence owes
me for surviving this world wielding its
hydrawhips, i defy it. whether or not
you grant me the inner sanctum of your
forearms whether or not you ask me to
treat the tendons of your neck like
raindrop remnants staine
hephaestus and the auroral constellationsthe joy like champagnebubble glass globes, tinkling
little crystal balls reflecting pinkish blue and greenish
orange, the unspectrum of colors where everything bleeds
together. i have been bleeding for longer than the colors
have known to blend and breach each other's wary boundaries
i have been bleeding sterile air in dirty bathtubs
i have been shedding hair like a winter coat
i have been unbound from the savory savior vines of ivy
and the new year marches onward, not dragging me tied
to its exhaust pipe across the molten tarmac streets like
i thought it would. it's kissing me solid and still, all my transparency
caramelizing and becoming depth you'd have to dig for;
my scabs sinking into skin, not vanishing or vanquished, but
given leave to leave. given space to breathe without the threat
of infection hanging constantly overhead. the new year took me
to pei wei for spicy tofu and brown rice, the new year cared about
my triggers (no restaurants, no pasta, no thick cake slices,
no assu
to the boy who made the world vanishmy capacity for breathlessness, my susceptibility
to stimuli is shocking and soft when i tilt my
chin up, seeking the holistic wholeharbor of the
streetlamp and your mouth. how sober, sober, so
shockingly
softly
sober
you were.
as peregrine and cottonballed as the last
flap of cardinal wings, ruffling air with
color and a corruptedangel grace. just a sip
just a few sips from the mouth with the lip
ring, the mouth blotting worry and high tides,
the mouth attached to the inked body branded with
three crying women. the fates, i told him, maybe
he had stamped himself with past present future
and suddenly he tapped the longhaired waif weeping
on his right bicep, said it was his mother; his
past; a woman he'd loved once.
and who is holding the needle now, i wanted to ask.
who holds the scissors, who cuts the strings? and
most tremendously
do they know if we
will ever
meet again?

moonface and her crater pearlsnews years night, a mad rush through weddingrice
fireworks and grimfaced bouncers stationed like
queen's guards outside clubs. new years, stepping
out of snake territory and into the pasture of
awaiting sheep, whirls of wool and calm chewing;
maybe this year my shame will be sucked down the
drain or be thrown far away like a javelin like
a oneway ticket to timbuktu; maybe this will be
the year of calm chewing. the year of fine tuning
my palate to sample and accept the morsels of
soft living and hard living and raspberry living
and grapefruit living. this could be the year of
keeping it down. how you start your year is how
you end it, say the sacred spirits and the little
snubnosed sages. well, then. here is how i'll
end the year: bedridden from bronchitis grabbing
my lungs like a terrible twosomed toddler throwing
a tantrum, bedridden after busting my eardreams
trying to hear past swooping euphoria, blankettucked
after determinedly partying & playing pool with
a shark & rummaging throu
king basilisk and the mangernoticing light like exiting a briarprickly
maze, having it slide over you like waking
up covered in his jacket or understanding
just how practical & mundane & sudden real
magic actually is, how it swoops down and
builds its nest right where your hair hides
the nape of your neck. how it never shouts
or yells. how it doesn't belittle or idolize
you. it doesn't make you better. it just
makes you aware that you're holding your breath
because you, more than anything, don't want to
startle this little and immense sliver of
shiverment away. so much of your life spent
murmuring into the pillow, Be a good girl. Be
quieter and more respectful. Be compact. but
you are a hothouse flower you are a crystal
chrysalis of an ornament hanging on the thinnest
string of stability you are sly dark movements
in a hidden dark place on a foreboding dark night.
you are irreconcilable with good girl antics
and good girl promises. would you know crisp white
button down shirts for the metaphors they are?
you don'
to the littlest goddess, whose shield is thundereven when my body has chills from ricocheting off
the deadly frozen icecavern walls of tooearly morning,
3 am, having slithered into a pile of delicate wash
clothing straight from the dryer, piping hot,
my body as wooden
as pinocchio's and
as smoothflanked as a
sharpened knife's
with all this skin under skin and childish blood
under wise blood and trepidatious knees quaking from
temperature. even when my body is absorbing change
as merciless as pulling apart helpless hunks of beef,
the tug and resistance of muscle and nicked gullet.
even when
my body
undergoes the carnage of the journey home. even
when dido climbs into the funeral pyre in front
of me, using aeneas' sword to run herself through
as if she made him use his own hand. even when that
is how i best identify with the way love returns to us.
my love, you were always going to touch darkness,
cut it into smoky-tendriled strips to tie around
your emboldened biceps. my love, you were always
going to bite the jugfanged vipers back a


crystallized-skies

2am poetry (you're always the subject line)I wish that you were still here by my side
instead of nestled in between the lines of my 2am poetry
because you deserve a better home than that
your name sits fervently on my lips
because I hope that with a whisper of those 5 little letters
that I can pull you from within the inscriptions on my
tree trunk ribs like a magician
pulling a rabbit from his silken hat.
I want to feel your words breathing down my neck
and your hands pressed against my quivering spine
as I stand at the edge of indecision--
you made me fear the fight rather than the fall
and now I'm addicted to the
the feeling of your wind beneath my wings.
we were an odd couple of misfits but we fit together:
you as the harmony and I the melody of a song no one else heard;
too many times I spent playing our soundtrack on repeat
as I danced across my room spinning &&
humming in the cold shadows of my lonely nights.
I wish that you were still here by my side
instead of nestled in between the lines of my 2am poetry
because I dese
toxic tulipsdelicate and ravishing
you kissed my soul raw
until it was bleeding into your
open palms.
dangerously addicting,
you tasted like poison—
the voice inside my head was
screaming and pitching
but I still drank you ‘til
the last drop.
verbatimthey say opposites attract and I guess they’re right
because I was attracted to you since the day we met
with those wild green eyes and your alluring words that made
me feel more comfortable in my own skin than
I have ever I felt in twenty years of existence,
you were a foreign taste to me that I began to crave
so insatiably that my angel became my devil’s advocate
and suddenly troubled waters turned into stormy seas
and all I remember are
the long days and hard nights
that were clouded with loud voices and
screaming
lots and lots of screaming
and tears so many tears
that i’m surprised i had
any to spare
but in the cacophony  
of clashing words and late night movie dates
we sparked
we ignited
we burned
you were the fire to my gasoline and it became
impossible to wash your ashes from my skin
you were painted on me;
it was our own Mona Lisa except she was frowning,
frowning because one of your hands was around my waist
and the other was pointed towards the sky
you

Oblivionyour hands clutch the steering
wheel loosely as we speed
down the highway
while mine fidget in my lap
passively pulling at a loose
string on my shirt,
but we’re not thinking
about our hands or how fast
we’re racing down this road
because I have stars in my eyes and
you have stars in your mouth
and we're singing at the
top of our lungs as if
our lives depended upon it.
sitting here next to you everything
is starting to shift and that's
when I feel it—
as if I'm splintering into
a million pieces and then
being rebuilt by your
delicately calloused hands;
my world has narrowed to
this pinpoint moment
that’s shining with a
million different colors
and there's a reckless peace
that feels so right it
has to be
wrong.
you have cornered me
in this infinite
oblivion and I'm not
quite sure what to do
because we're no longer
going 80 down a 55 and
I don't hear my best friend
spilling her heart out in
your back seat hell
I can't even feel my own
body anymore,
it's j
reflections.i.
wet feet in the sand,
as foreign waves lap
at my toes enticing
me with wonders to come
ii.
the days meld together
into a blur of shadows
with names--
but you, you still
burn within
my veins.
iii.
all work and no play
makes
me feel
c a g e d.
iv.
i’ve traded soft shores
for rocky roads that
lead to places i’m
not sure i want to go.
v.
i’m staring into the
eye of the storm,
hands trembling;
i don’t know
if i’ll make it out
alive...
vi.
i’m walking on eggshells
vii.
i imagine all the things
we could be
viii.
i’m listening to the
same playlist but
there’s something sad
about these songs
ix.
tranquility has finally
settled between the
spaces of my ribs
and it feels n i c e
x.
i feel the cracks
creeping up my spine
as your hands dance
like ghosts across
my cheeks--
i’m breaking in more
ways than
one.
xi.
the tides are changing
and I can’t help but
feel like i’m drowning.
xii.
breathe.
breathe.
b r e a t h e.
you ha
it's after midnightraindrops
trickle down my back,
running along
the curvature of
my spine like two
lovers chasing after their
happily-ever-afters.
the wind is whipping
the trees back and forth
as if they’re living metronomes
rocking in time
to the frantic fluttering
of the heart swinging
haphazardly on
my sleeve.
I look up into the
cracking sky watching
its imperfections flash
before my starry eyes as
its icy fingers reach
down to stroke my
chilled cheekbones--
his touch was as
soft as yours.


Omarius99

Robotic TendenciesA grinding of the gears
A fracture of the heart
Bottle up those tears
Before I fall apart
I can hear a whisper
I must make a choice
Ride the brutal twister
Or become a silenced voice
All you wanted was a compromise
A simple middle ground
All I could do was knock you down
My moves were calculated
I forced my face to look animated
How can an automaton betray its programming?
Don’t say I never wanted to change
I wish I wasn’t so strange
I’m a victim of my robotic tendencies
For this there are no remedies
Maybe one day I’ll become human
When all my dreams came true
I froze over and became blue
There was nothing else I could do
The demon inside poisoned my mind
Precautions made things worse
I returned to the deserts
You left me for a different course
I found myself a fantasy I found myself a fallacy
You saw my anxieties you saw my robotic tendencies
All you wanted was a compromise
A simple middle ground
All I could do was knock you down
My moves were calculated
I for
AsphyxiationIt’s easy to escape the harmony
When you are breaking mirrors
In hopes of becoming invisible
For this I ask you to pardon me
Before I fall into cruel chaos
Remember the aura I had owned
Keep it alive and carefully honed
I was the one who pierced you
With the voracious dagger
I always tried to distance myself
From the bone crushing guilt
Thinking I was an innocent victim
The past ricochets off the blank walls
Filling my feeble ears with siren calls
It’s the price I pay for reckless intuition
Now I lay in a cold state of asphyxiation
There’s no point in wishing for reversal
I’d surely find a way to ruin this again
The past ricochets off the blank walls
Filling my feeble ears with siren calls
It’s the price I pay for reckless intuition
Now I lay in a cold state of asphyxiation
I let my heart become hardened
By the imaginary dictator
He was unpleasantly relentless
On his quest to wreck me
I saw my face underneath his mask
My former self was so selfish
As he bl
VenomThe luster stops and fades away
We have reached our dying day
I wanted us to bloom gracefully
All we did was wilt so abruptly
I tried to run from the grey desolation
Spurred my own splendid migration
I intensified my agonizing devastation
Blank spaces surrounded my mind
I wanted to fill in what I could not find
When I failed my eyes went blind
A simple word unleashed the fire
Now snakes ascend my dry pyre
I fear the pain but not their bite
I feel their venom deep inside
I feel the venom burn inside
Our memories began to disintegrate
I allowed my own heart to incinerate
The end drove me to the jagged edge
All that saved me was an old pledge
I sought the penultimate prize
Left with this virulent demise
Time only healed small cuts
Not my now weakened guts
A simple word unleashed the fire
Now snakes ascend my dry pyre
I fear the pain but not their bite
I feel their venom deep inside
I feel the venom burn inside
I wanted to possess the impossible
All I did was create endless obstacles
The f

Twilight To TwilightMaybe one day I’ll hide the pain with stealth
If I can escape this state of bewilderment
You mutilated and marred my mental health
But I threw myself into this immurement
All I sense is ambiguity and decline
Oh how I yearn to be on cloud nine
Then the truth shoots me square in the face
I’ve been my own obstacle in this wild race
I finally see the end of this dark night
The sands of time must be free to disappear
I can’t keep looking for a way to erase memory
The past won’t make me shed another tear
I’ll follow the path from twilight to twilight
Feed The WolvesBetrayal has left me bleeding anger
All I can do is search for danger
Rage echoes throughout my body
From within I call upon an army of me
Everyone is yearning for information
They facilitate the vile infection
No one will sympathize anymore
They are all echoes rotted to the core
So I won’t feed the wolves tonight
Even if I drown in confusion and freight
Those wolves will starve tonight
Once the anger fades I fall to lassitude
Pleading with my own solitude
Searching among broken answers
Illogically trying to brighten matters
MelancholiaI sit alone biding my time and cleansing my heart
I try to sew together my life after it was torn apart
My head and senses have been overrun by melancholia
The happiness slowly leaves my fragile body
I’ve lost the once warm touch of joyful bliss
Wistfulness has become frozen on my weary face
My old self flees and I’m not ready for a long chase
I’m being expertly guided by sweet, sweet melancholia
Decline has begun to drag me down into sadness
What the hell happened to my exuberant happiness?
I’ve tried multiple times to write you my apologia
I keep scrapping it in favor of living with my melancholia
Now I’ve entered a labyrinth of depressing solitude


xXxRising-AngelxXx

PapercutRead between the lines,
Each scar tells a story,
Only spoken in verse.
Each line has a meaning.
There's a reason why I hide
This habit of mine
From most.
But some just fail to see
That sometimes, poetry
Can be written without words,
Just like scars
Can be made
With no pain.
ValorYou,
Carrying your world
On your back, you
Are a hero.
Trudging through life,
Step after step,
You will make it.
When gravity knocks you down,
Stand up for yourself, and
Just know that you're not alone,
Every hero has a sidekick.
There's always a helping hand,
Reaching out, even in the dark
When all seems out of sight.
Don't give up.
You're a hero, saving your world
With every step you take.
And with every day spent alive,
You have saved yourself again.
HypocriteYou spit fire with words,
But you call it disrespect
When I try to put out the flames,
You've burnt this house down,
But you say I'm wrong
When I hand you the ashes.
I've tried rebuilding with what remains
But you say it's not good enough
When I offer to make things right.

In Your EyesI'd rather be lost
In your eyes than
In my mind.
But when I left, I
Began searching for
What I could never find.
It took me time
To realize that
It was what I had left behind.
And in your eyes,
I saw the light,
To which I had gone blind.
BlindShe wore her smile
Broken.
No one could see
That she was
Falling apart.
Her eyes were always
Bright.
No one could see
The tears she
Refused to cry.
She was only dying
Inside.
No one could see
That maybe one day
Her body would catch
Up with her mind.
WorthlessI'll take comfort in
What I hate,
Sharp pain and this
Synthetic happiness.
It's all a lie.
I feel like the biggest actor
In the smallest theatre.
Worthless...
But when will my best ever be good enough?
I'll hide away in
What no one can find,
A place that no one
Can reach.
Not yet, at least.
I've never been good at
Saying goodbye.
But...
I don't have to make it a scene.


weirdnessandideas

Old LieThis old lie has become
a terrible habit of mine.
I’m suffering internally,
One day you’ll see.
I refuse to speak of it;
tragedies can’t be.
I wish I can say, “I’m not tired,”
and “I’m not okay.”
I want to cry on your shoulder
when I’m too weak.
I hope I can confront my demons --
those thoughts -- and rid them.
This old lie has become
a terrible habit of mine.
I’m suffering internally,
craving closure.
One day, I’ll get better,
One day, you will see it.
Time, IncessantI’m tuning in,
Tuning in to the ticking;
It’s strong, its heart
Beats proudly from
Its high throne
On the bland wall.
Subjects lie low in
Its superior presence.
Thin needles string
Numbers along, directing
And leading it’s soldiers
Towards a blissful new dawn.
The beating, it’s incessant;
The Monarch is a warrior,
Slaughtering all who stand
In between its destined goal
And himself. Time is fighting,
Fighting for gold luxuries.
Time, incessant, roars.
Voice loud, the Monarch
Conquers and waves its
Sword high above all,
And claims his new found
Territory. Long live Time.
sweet x'sRain has kissed my
cursed skin. Sweet
x’s marking
their claimed kingdoms.
Sweet x’s meld
the porcelain
together; lips
unsure to leave.
Lips bless the seals
keeping my skin --
my foundations
sturdy in turmoil.
Sweet x’s no
longer hold the
trauma of pasts.
They hold futures.

One AMSometimes
when I ascend
into the distance,
where the impossible
occur and the
beautiful become
d i v i n e,
I am brought back
like a magnet to
it’s partner;
I return to your side
at one am
because I adore
you, and care
for y o u.
I will break every
wall, and wake up
at any hour -- do
a n y t h i n g
for you.
When words cut deeperTo the fallen miracles that have sunk deep into the ocean graveyards, where slow, mental disintegration and physical, natural decomposition lie in wait for you,
Do not let your weary bones sink deep into the earth, where name plaques and headstones cannot reach you. Even though the dead outnumber the living, we all try to remember those who have died via name scribbling. Do not let yourself drown in the abyss of the missing, where anonymous black ghosts fill the empty spaces where names and faces should be. Do not allow yourself to be another tragedy: forgotten, and wanting to love and be loved.
Be selfish and leave your legacy, and do not let words reach and suffocate your heart’s most genuine intentions. Do not let the sanctity of your humanity be stolen by the rotting clutches of Death. Be affectionate and invigorate; pay your love to those who want it and not to the venomous villains, and fuel their desires with delicate words and heartfelt love of the utmost purity. Do not l
All that RemainsIn Robert Burns’s poem, To a Mouse, he speaks of nature losing to humanity. In Of Mice and Men by John Steinbeck, he writes of nature reclaiming what man had stolen. And both speak of finding a homes, sanctuaries, on this earth. And both speak of the demolition of that sanctuary. And both could never be so true.
Crickets thrive and chirp, their songs full of victory and very little fear. The reeds are overwhelming the ponds, vegetation sprouting whenever the opportunity is given to them. Mankind has definitely gotten a massive setback; there is next to nothing of the once superior species left on this planet. And maybe this is a good change. Dawns and dusks are more vibrant, skies clearer due to the empty factories and power plants no longer sputtering out thick smoke of unhealthy greenhouse gases.
There are few stones dating the more recent deaths, and there’s been a lot of them too. Sometimes, if you’re lucky, you can hear their dying screams, of what


Diluculi

Nobody But MeNobody but me knows the truth
But don't worry, I won't tell
I promise I'll keep your secrets safe
Even from oblivion.
I'm the only one you can trust.
Nobody but me sees through you
Behind the veil of your lies
Which you tell yourself and the world
But you cannot fool me.
I'm the only one who knows you.
Nobody but me will stay here
After another failure
You'll make and drive them all away
I am all that you have
I'm the only one who will stay.
Nobody but me reminds you
Of all mistakes that you made
And points out the pointlessnesses
Of each try to change.
I'm the one who knows you best.
Nobody but me, I'm the one
I'm the only one for you.
You can't get rid of me, oh no!
I am your mirror
Showing every single flaw.
I am the whisper
In your head during the night.
And like a shadow
I will always be by your side.
Manhunters On The LooseManhunters on the loose, be aware, be aware
Manhunters on the loose, be aware
Manhunters on the loose, with lies meant to seduce
Loud squallers of half truth meant to scare, meant to scare
Loud squallers of half truths meant to scare.
We have to fight against them, so you cry, so you cry
We have to fight against them, so you cry
We have to fight against them, other humans you condemn
They are diff'rent, they're not us, they are wry, they are wry
They are diff'rent, they're not us, they are wry.
Manhunters in the streets, with their prey, with their prey
Manhunters in the streets with their prey
Manhunters in the streets dancing to the war drum's beat
(A) spider's smile for each fly they've led astray, led astray
(A) spider's smile for each fly they've led astray.
These manhunters I do see are not new, are not new
These manhunters I do see are not new.
These manhunters I do see, remind me of '33
Ghosts of a past that we should not redo, not redo
Ghosts of a past that we should not redo.
The CrashEv'ry time I see you now I still search for you eyes
I don't know really why though, there's nothing left to find
Guess I'll never learn it and even might never be wise
Enough to know our paths are not more entwined
Well, the trip is over and the car is fully wrecked
Thank you for ride so far but I walk the rest alone
The end could have been smother, but what did I expect
We are no careful drivers and that fact was not unkown
I cannot deny I walked away with a new scar
And have assumed that you did want to hit that wall
No longer do I care about why you had turned the car
I will not believe you, I spare us the squall
Well, the trip is over and the car is fully wrecked
Thank you for ride so far but I walk the rest alone
The end could have been smoother, but what did I expect
We are no careful drivers and that fact was not unknown
The years we spend together, they were an awesome time
Maybe we were doomed to fail right when they did begin
Two catastrophes had teamed up and that was our c

That SongGently, gently it's returning
Entering with the elegance
Of a dancer on light feet
Before you really know what's happened
The song already reached the soul
Quickly, quickly, it is freeing
All the memories pushed aside
With an innocent yet evil smile
And before you know what's happening
Everything comes back again.
I wish I could have been strong
As strong as you have been
I wish I could be that strong now
And remember without burning tears
You were weak and fragile
But calm, so calm and strong...
I wish I would not know this song
Which speaks to me of you
Which holds up a mirror to my face
This song he told me was his favourite
Back when he was still like my brother
Long before he suddenly abandoned me.
Gently, gently it's returning
Entering with the elegance
Of a dancer on light feet
The song I whish I could forget
Keeps on playing endlessly in my head.
I wish I could be strong
And just forget...
Sleeping BeautySleeping Beauty, let us wake you up
Without having us to put you back to sleep.
Sleeping Beauty, the world is changing
Around you and without you
Sleeping Beauty, your prince is gone
From your bedside, he cannot wait forever
The world is moving on and so does he
Sleeping Beauty, two years have passed already
Sleeping Beauty, time doesn't wait for you
There is no spell to keep you safe
You don't notice, but you're aging, too
While you're caught in a dreamless sleep
Sleeping Beauty, how long will this go on?
Please don't let us wait a hundred years
Or maybe, mabye I am wrong assuming
That you are cursed like the fairy tale princess
Maybe you are not Sleeping Beauty
But instead Snow White lying in her coffin
Made from glass and crystal by seven dwarves
And we didn't find the apple slice yet
Which is stuck in your throat
Oh, but how can we know?
The king's daughter sleeps like the dead
Alive, but unreachable for the living
And each time we try to bring you back
Your condition doesn't allow
Down The Lonely RoadHe's walking down the lonely road
Where nobody knows his name.
Only dust swirls around his feet
In boots with rusty spurs.
He passes by an empty house
Where now only ghosts reside,
Reflections of old memories
Of who they once had been.
The man walks down a lonely road
With one bullet left to shoot,
A name engraved into the shell;
The gun cannot shoot straight.
He walks the road until it ends
Nowhere in the desert's sand,
A cross made of two withered sticks
Bleached by the blazing sun.
He's walking down the lonely road
Where now only ghosts reside
Falls on his knees before the grave
Hands dig into the sand.
If you go down the lonely road
Somewhere in the desert's sand
You'll find a bullet on a grave
And the shell wears a name
Then follow down the jingling wind
'Till you reach a withered tree
Cut into the wood are the words:
"The man without a name"


trembling-knees

i don't want to hear you apologise anymorei wish the photos
i keep could talk to me,
like some damned harry
potter trick, just so i
could hear you say
you love me without
your voice breaking,
without hearing the
'but...' that never
made it past your lips
but lodged itself in
my throat anyway.
i just want to
hear you say it like
you mean it.
wilted petals on bedsheets and bathrobesi was full of
flowers, once.
soft blossoms and a
wild, arcing sky that
would have taken
your breath away.
but now i am
watching the
petals of my
skin swirl
down the drain
and thinking
about how
my depression
is a bodily
pesticide,
slowly stunting
all kinds of growth
until finally,
nothing tries to
grow anymore.
depression, againdays have
stopped being
days,
the guts
pulled out and
replaced
with empty sleep.
nights the same.
and the rest of
it leaves
a stale taste
on my sheets.

i forgot to remember you this yearaugust 24th
was just another day
this year.
i didn't buy
yellow carnations and
i didn't cry.
i don't know
if this means i'm
moving on or if
i'm forgetting
you were ever
here.
stained-heart loveryou have pressed
your hands across
the walls of my heart,
and now
everyone who
sees inside of me
falls in love
with the light left
behind by your
touch.
the truth isi write poetry,
       //
i make love.


Thanks for reading, and stay inspired :dalove:

See you next time space cowboy

Coding by SimplySilent
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:iconangeink:
AngeInk Featured By Owner Jan 6, 2015  Hobbyist General Artist
Thank you so much for the request! :heart:
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:iconrethinkable:
ReThinkable Featured By Owner Dec 7, 2014  New member Hobbyist Writer
Just out of curiosity, is everyone permitted to submit blog entries?
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:iconnichrysalis:
Nichrysalis Featured By Owner Dec 8, 2014  Hobbyist Writer
Yes, but they must be relevant to the literature community.
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:iconrethinkable:
ReThinkable Featured By Owner Dec 8, 2014  New member Hobbyist Writer
Ah, okay.
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:icongrimface242:
GrimFace242 Featured By Owner Dec 11, 2014   Writer
And you need to be a member of the group, if you aren't already.
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:iconthiranostales:
ThiranosTales Featured By Owner Dec 1, 2014  Hobbyist Writer
thank you for submitting "Numb" into your group as well as the mention in the journal! :love:
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:iconnemox7:
NemoX7 Featured By Owner Nov 16, 2014   Writer
Hello! :wave: Thanks for allowing me to join! :love:
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:iconmsstarryduck:
MsStarryDuck Featured By Owner Nov 4, 2014  Hobbyist Writer
Thank you for submitting Untamed Hearts to your gallery! 
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:iconpotatoandwombat:
PotatoandWombat Featured By Owner Oct 27, 2014  Hobbyist Artist
Hi guys, could I get some feed back on one of my writings?

Here is the link:
potatoandwombat.deviantart.com…
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:icongrimface242:
GrimFace242 Featured By Owner Oct 27, 2014   Writer
We don't offer feedback here, but I would suggest submitting to theWrittenRevolution or WritersInk
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:iconpotatoandwombat:
PotatoandWombat Featured By Owner Oct 27, 2014  Hobbyist Artist
okay, thanks!
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:iconradishstick:
RadishStick Featured By Owner Oct 2, 2014  Student General Artist
Hi, I'm just wondering what the process is for submitting deviations (or offering them) to this group. :)
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:icongrimface242:
GrimFace242 Featured By Owner Oct 2, 2014   Writer
We don't allow submissions to the group.  We request Literature Daily Deviations to our gallery as well as projecteducate Literature Week submissions.  The only gallery folder we have open for submissions is our News Article folder.
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:iconradishstick:
RadishStick Featured By Owner Oct 5, 2014  Student General Artist
Ok, thanks for the information. :)
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Ywander Featured By Owner Sep 23, 2014  Professional Writer
Just out of curiosity: what does the CR in CRLiterature stand for?
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:iconirrevocablefate:
IrrevocableFate Featured By Owner Sep 23, 2014   Writer
Community Relations. :)
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:iconywander:
Ywander Featured By Owner Sep 23, 2014  Professional Writer
AAahhh, ok! Thanks! I like it here. I want to be more active in the literary community and this looks like a great place to start!
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:iconirrevocablefate:
IrrevocableFate Featured By Owner Sep 23, 2014   Writer
You're welcome! I'm glad you do! :D This is the perfect place to start.
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:iconericambm:
EricAMBM Featured By Owner Sep 8, 2014   Writer
How do I submit here?
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:icongrimface242:
GrimFace242 Featured By Owner Sep 9, 2014   Writer
We're not a general submissions group.  Currently we only request Lit DDs and projecteducate Lit articles.  If you're looking for a group to submit to, I would suggest WritersInk.
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