We bob along the wildwood
like acorns on a colorless stream,
moving without want or will,
powerless as in a dream.
I taste the pine, I hear the rhyme
of the cicada and the bumblebee.
You and I float on the trail,
unconstrained, for now — free.
© 2016 Stellular Scribe
I shall not be bound by stone;
in memoriam I refuse to remain,
a rock upon a hill with but
a carving to my name.
Henceforth I’ll be boundless,
like a whisper against rain —
everywhere and nowhere,
unfettered at the reigns.
© 2016 Stellular Scribe
on this under-trodden grain
I trample through my sleeping mind —
ah, vexing mind,
of the kind, that keeps my eyes
agape at night.
on this pressed and pondered trail
I step across worms of doubt,
worms that sprout
between my toes and keep my feet
confused and cold.
but walking is its own therapy,
and the path
propels me.
© 2016 Stellular Scribe
Baseem split the cherry between his fingers. Red juice stained the grooves of his thumb and dripped off the end of his fingernail. He rubbed the pads of his fingers together, mashing the berry into a raw, bloody pulp. When he was finished, he flicked the mangled remains off the side of the deck and held his hand up for me to see.
“Ya amar, do you hear it?” he asked.
My flute felt cold between my fingers, and I lowered it to my lap. “Hear? Don’t you mean see?”
“No, hear. I have wondered if you can hear it too, the way I can. If when you press your lips to your reed and blow you can hear the colors, or at least imagine them before they erupt like spitting embers from your instrument.” He rotated his wrist in front of his face, studying the red seeping down his palm. “When you played the friscalleto, I heard this precise shade. Cherry red. Like the wine we acquired from Donnalucata. Like the poppies that covered the hills beyond the beach. Like the fire that —”
I turned my head away, and I hated myself for the bitterness that glassed my eyes. “I hear no colors, signore. I am afraid that the visual arts are not my area of expertise.”
“Ah, but music is the highest of all visual arts,” Baseem said, his eyes smiling. “You know better than anyone, Ludovica, that music remembers. Music is memory. And what is memory if not visual?” He crossed the deck towards me, taking heavy, deliberate steps with the heels of his boots. “There is an aching in your compositions. A red. A remembrance. You must hear it.”
Mama’s ribbon. Papà’s steamed crab. Cosima’s rosary beads. Orazio’s blood.
I flooded my face of expression.
An excerpt from a work-in-progress.
Admittedly, the following two playlists accompany a very specific genre for writing. However, medieval and early European music can fuel more than your mere historical epic — it can serve as a calming motor throughout your day, from its mathematically exquisite stanzas to its lulling Gregorian chant and lute-work.
Take more than just a step back in time with these mixes. Submerge yourself in the Dark Ages, for all its grit, orthodoxy, and simplicity.
Happy writing!
Writer’s block may seem like a terminal illness, but sometimes the smallest of sparks can “kindle” your craft. Today I bring you a list of ten 1-2 sentence writing prompts that will help build up your white blood cells and give writer’s block a good kick in the pants. Copy them, tweak them, consider them, leave them. It’s up to you!
I’d love to hear what you come up with. Feel free to share your writing in the comments!
Happy writing!
I stir
linseed oil and orange ochre
into a sunset cream
that injects life into
my heroine’s cheeks — mixed
with Titian red and varnish,
her flesh floods with blood
beneath the skin,
and I have given
life.
© 2016 Stellular Scribe
Jasmine had an hourglass figure and blonde hair. She was beautiful. She had smooth, flawless skin and big, baby blue eyes that were a window to her soul. She stood in the doorframe like a model.
Yuck yuck yuck yuck yuck. Blech. That has got to be the most disgusting, shallow character introduction I have ever written because that, my fellow scribes, is an example of everything you should not do if you want to describe characters like a boss.
The above paragraph showcases what I consider to be the five venial sins of writing description. I call them venial because while it is very easy to lean on these tactics as a crutch, you are not doomed to a fiery pit where all bad writers go for using them. Hark, the Stellular Scribe sings, for I bring you glad tidings! There is hope after all, so long as you refrain from the following:
Jasmine had an hourglass figure and blonde hair.
Even if your sole goal is to write a piece without narrative or plot, simply slapping on any ol’ description out of context won’t give an accurate portrayal of the character. Remember, describing looks should serve to enhance the reader’s image of the physical, mental, and practical aspects of the character. A character isn’t her appearance. A character is active and engaged in the story. The way the above sentence sits, Jasmine seems like more of a storefront display than an actual person.
Also, hourglass figure is a horrid cliché and it should be discarded immediately.
Solution: Describe Actively
Jasmine twisted her blonde hair with a lazy finger. Her free hand rested in the curve between her hip and ribcage.
She was beautiful.
There’s nothing wrong with calling a character beautiful or ugly or old or young. But that’s only in the subjective sense — perhaps when another character is describing her or she is being observed on the basis of beauty alone. Here in this introduction of her character, “beautiful” is too general. A bird can be beautiful. A couch can be beautiful. What determines her beauty?
Solution: Write Specifically
She looked at him much like an artist critiquing a student’s painting — with an air of impressment, but mostly fond amusement at his folly. There was something stunning about the way she studied him.
(Ha! Bet you didn’t see that one coming. Remember, physical characterizations don’t reveal everything.)
She had smooth, flawless skin and big, baby blue eyes that were a window to her soul.
You’re introducing a character. Not playing thesaurus bingo. Tacking on adjective after adjective can make the description feel forced and unrealistic, and it will quickly cause the reader to lose interest. You are no longer writing about a person — you are writing a laundry list.
In the end, you’ve got to pick the most important traits and stick with them. In our example, describing Jasmine’s “eyes” makes much more contextual sense than informing the reader on her “smooth, flawless skin.”
Solution: Less is More
It was as if her eyes, sheer as sea smoke, revealed her every judgement.
She had an hourglass figure […].
She had […] eyes that were a window to her soul.
Clichés are the devil. Ok. Maybe they’re not that bad, but it can begin to feel like torture for a reader to read the same recycled, thrown-up, washed-out descriptions over and over and over again.
Solution: Avoid Clichés At All Costs.
That’s right. Just don’t even touch them. Not. A. One.
She stood in the doorframe like a model.
And we’re back to describing a storefront display. Try to reveal some emotion in your descriptions. These are people you’re writing about, and most people aren’t very hard to read. Everyone reveals emotion in some way or another.
Solution: Characterize Emotionally
She leaned against the doorframe almost like a model posing for a magazine cover shoot — but somehow, she looked effortless. Completely unaware of her own natural grace. Bored, even.
And thus we go from
Jasmine had an hourglass figure and blonde hair. She was beautiful. She had smooth, flawless skin and big, baby blue eyes that were a window to her soul. She stood in the doorframe like a model.
to
Jasmine twisted her blonde hair with a lazy finger. Her free hand rested in the curve between her hip and ribcage. She looked at him much like an artist critiquing a student’s painting — with an air of impressment, but mostly fond amusement at his folly. There was something stunning about the way she studied him. It was as if her eyes, sheer as sea smoke, revealed her every judgement. She leaned against the doorframe almost like a model posing for a magazine cover shoot — but somehow, she looked effortless. Completely unaware of her own natural grace. Bored, even.
Voila! Now we have a character who the reader can care about, someone he will want to know more about.
Go forth and spread the good news, dear scribes — so that everyone can describe characters like a boss!
© 2016 Stellular Scribe
come at me, commotion
sink into the cracks of my mind
undo me right now
there’s plenty of time
have a go, grieving
grant me the pain
to suffer tomorrow
i’m already insane
break me down, bedlam
plant your lips on my life
take hold of my senses
i’m accustomed to strife
come at me, chaos
clear me of noise
monotony bores me
and order destroys
© 2016 Stellular Scribe
Summer’s here, and I’ve been doing a lot of sleeping in lately — which leaves me time to stay up late, pushing through the night to write. Today, I bring to you two of my favorite peaceful, late night music playlists to write to. Soft and simple, calm and lulling; I hope that these mixes bring you solace and creativity at all hours of the day.
Happy writing! 🙂
Stellular Scribe 