The Weekend Share #29


Click into the Blog Part Link I’ve shared. You check out some amazing bloggers and share up to five links of your own writing and writing from bloggers that inspire you. It’s running all weekend so enjoy! Remember to thank are awesome host 🙂

Its good to be crazy Sometimes

Here we are, a new weekend is coming and you know what, we are going to party like its 1999 and if you don’t get that reference, I am getting old.

blog party1

If you have never done this before, give it a go, you lose maybe 30 seconds of your life adding a link and you never know who might see it, I will, my mum probably will, so its well worth it.

As everything is life there are rules, if you are new or just need reminding here they are

Rules are very simple,

  1. You can share up to five links
  2. They can be a post, your blog, someone elses post or blog
  3. You can comment on here from now till 11.30pm on Friday evening (GMT time)
  4. I shall start sharing from Midnight Saturday till 11.30pm Sunday (GMT time)
  5. It can be anything you want, however I will have final…

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The Two Pillars of Novel Structure


There are many ways to organize a novel. Ryan provides a great and well-used one with Three Seperate Parts .

A Writer's Path

by Michael Mohr

I want to talk briefly about novel structure because, as a novel editor, I see all kinds of basic issues from the majority of the aspiring writer-clients I work with. There is a wealth of info out there on the web but I wanted to give you a little taste of what makes a solid novel. Because, especially if you write commercial fiction and hope to land an agent and get published, novel structure is incredibly important to pay attention to.

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Notable Quotes: April Part Two 2018 #pinterest #quotes #poetry #notablequotes


Welcome to Notable Quotes, April Edition Part Two 2018. Hope you find some inspiration and some quotes/poetry worth thinking about.


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©Mandibelle16. (2018) All Rights Reserved.

Day 15 #NaPoWriMo/ Saturday Mix: Poem – Triquin Chain – “She’s A Witch” #amwriting #SaturdayMix #poetry


For Day 15 NaPoWriMo the Prompt is: “writing a poem in which a villain faces an unfortunate situation, and is revealed to be human (but still evil).” I’m combining with Sarah of MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie ‘s Saturday Mix Prompt on Triquains.

Triquain Chain

A string of 2 to 4 Triquains, a space between each triquain.

2 stanzas – 3, 6, 9, 12, 9, 6, 3 3, 6, 9, 12, 9, 6, 3

3 stanzas – 3, 6, 9, 12, 9, 6, 3 3, 6, 9, 12, 9, 6, 3 3, 6, 9, 12, 9, 6, 3

4 stanzas – 3, 6, 9, 12, 9, 6, 3 3, 6, 9, 12, 9, 6, 3 3, 6, 9, 12, 9, 6, 3 3, 6, 9, 12, 9, 6, 3

—-

Credit:Lucas Sanky via Unsplash

—-

She’s a witch,

She burns and she twitches.

Fire glows, sparks raise, burn high into morn.

She doesn’t feel, because she’s real; she burns all day.

Clergy stoke fire, she doesn’t expire;

The rabble wish her pain —

She’s a witch.

But not finished her time,

For real spell-casters can’t be murdered.

They drowned her, she floated; they hung her, her neck snapped.

Then, when they untied her, she laughed;

Her neck clicked in place, her spine healed fast.

She’s a witch.

*****

She burns fields.

She’s not kind, far too real.

She misled children, gave everyone pox.

It wasn’t her plan, to be mean and vile –to kill;

But those ‘Holier-Than-Thou’ tortured —

Dismembered her family —

Powerless.

They untouched with dark arts.

And all those woman not real villains,

Masked in their veins wasn’t witchcraft or evil brews.

Perhaps, they were too pretty, too —

Wealthy; had much power.

Then, she flipped.

***

She’s truly —

A witch; they made her one.

They buried her alive, let her sink,

Chocking in the putrid river with their repulsive waste.

She’s seen the flesh on innocents burn crisp;

The crackle of their hair.

Tied as she,

On a pier, with hellfire;

To destroy her vengeance, her wrathful ways.

She’s evil, sins with peasants, priests, their hateful hearts.

Cursing their Lords, besieging her home;

Survives fire, lives to smite,

Twisted witch.

****

——–

©️Mandibelle16. (2018) All Rights Reserved.

#NaPoWriMo Day 14/Sunday Photo Fiction: Poem – Italian – Sonnet – “Dream Wisps” #amwriting #poetry


For NaPoWriMo Day 14 the Prompt is: “to write entries for an imaginary dream dictionary. Pick one (or more) of the following words, and write about what it means to dream of these things: Teacup, Hammer, Seagull, Ballet slipper, Shark, Wobbly table, Dentist, and Rowboat. I’m combining with SPF hosted by Alistair Forbes.

—–

Credit: Alistair Forbes

—-

Teacup held in hand, she murmurs vespers,

Ballet slippers lifted, a child’s fond hopes —

A tutu twirled, spun, clouds that gleam and float.

She dreams of diving seagulls, their whispers,

Voices, sharp tongues drill; sharks with winged-flippers,

Sailors, those unafraid steering rowboats.

Hammerheads drift, they alter in remote,

Albatross’ signs of woe, slight wisps;

Reality and memories weave lost thoughts.

Wants, needs, and everything time forgotten,

Awaking to find the Albatross cawing.

As ethereal moments wake, warble —

Albatross unblinking, sailor he shoots;

He quakes and trembles within blackened boots.

—-

©️Mandibelle16. (2018) All Rights Reserved.

#NaPoWriMo Day 13/ Three Line Tales: Poem – Senryu – “Doesn’t Conquer Death” #amwriting #3LineTales #poetry


For NaPoWriMo Day 13 the Prompt is: ” to write a poem in which the words or meaning of a familiar phrase get up-ended. For example, if you chose the phrase “A stitch in time saves nine,” you might reverse that into something like: ‘ a broken thread; I’m late, so many lost.'” Also, I’m combining with Sonya from Only 100 Words’ #3LineTales Prompt.


Credit: Ronaldo Santos Via Unsplash


Romeo scales yellowed bricks,

Hands bleed from his grip;

He pleads, balances on shutters.

*****

Juliet grins glances down,

She notes a height steep;

He clings to her hand squeezes.

*****

A climbing shoe slips, tumbling —

Love doesn’t conquer —

Death; not as corpses hands’ meld.

*****


©Mandibelle16. (2018) All Rights Reserved.

#NaPoWriMo Day 11/Poets Pub: Poem – Quadrille – “Tomorrows” #amwriting #poetry #dVerse


For NaPoWriMo Day 11 the Prompt is: ” write a poem that addresses the future, answering the questions: “What does y(our) future provide? What is your future state of mind? If you are a citizen of the “unionthat is your body, what is your future “state of the union” address?” Also, thanks to WhimsyGhizmo from #dVerse Poet’s PubQuadrille Prompt based on zip or zipper.


Credit: Dverse Poet’s Pub


Crinkles from thinking.

Staring, wandering —

‘Why’ I can’t answer.

I don’t know ‘why,’

Tomorrow’s vague.

I don’t recognize its truth.

Its success —

And what defines that?

So, I’ll meander the path,

Hope life remains full.

Without zipper blues —

Swallowing sweet hope.

Moments gleam clear,

Clouded with uncertainty.


©Mandibelle16.(2018) All Rights Reserved.

#NaPoWriMo Day 12/Poet’s Pub: Poem – Haibun – “The Battle” #dVerse #poetry #amwriting


For NaPoWriMo Day 12, the Prompt is: to “write a haibun that takes in the natural landscape of the place you live. I have to my surprise, never written in this form, so here’s a definition from Haibun– Poets.org:


“Haibun is a poetic form that allows one to answer some of these questions while providing a fresh perspective through a lens that focuses on nature and landscape. Haibun combines a prose poem with a haiku. The haiku usually ends the poem as a sort of whispery and insightful postscript to the prose of the beginning of the poem. Another way of looking at the form is thinking of haibun as . . . a prose poem ending with a meaningful murmur of sorts: a haiku.”


Also, I’m combining with Paul Scribble’s #dVerse Poet’s Pub, poetic prompt on a quote about poetic arts. The two prompts fit together well.


To write about poetry is to believe that there are answers to some of the questions poets ask of their art, or at least that there are reasons for writing it, writes Michael Weigers, editor of the anthology This Art: Poems about Poetry (Copper Canyon Press, 2003).


Credit: FreeStocks.org via Unsplash


Past the ravine, the North Saskatchewan flows; ice on her surface where Spring’s murmuring waters compose. The snow floats, sheets of ice crack, confused, the rivers pull bursts through. Amidst howling winds and bitter nights of chill, Spring waltzes in with lilacs. But old-man winter berates with frost, slippery roads, broken sidewalks. Spring blossoms and explodes, to weave the buds that summon bees. Springs drugged words ignored, no lush greenery bursts. Leaves rot, the ice, the snow, the muck, the refuse mushed, derelict without Spring’s blossoms. She hums her tune, an heals Winter’s hacking cough; she pleads her assurance of poppy fields. The old-man shakes his fist with cantankerous growl — another ‘last’ snowstorm grits. The poet composes in metaphorical bliss, avoiding morn’s beams. The question of, “Why?” No matter. The question of, “How can I not?” Words that enthral.

*****

Sleep in poppy’s opium kiss,

Revel in sunlight’s verdant bliss;

Spring’s song; poet’s light.


©Mandibelle16. (2018) All Rights Reserved.

#NaPoWriMo Day 10/Photo Challenge: “Rabbit’s Play” #amwriting #poetry #photochallenge #MLMM


For Day 10 NaPoWriMo the Prompt is: to ” write a poem of simultaneity – in which multiple things are happing at once.” Also, thanks to NEKNEERAJ from MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie.


Credit: Alpha Coders


You locked the door shut;

I threw away the key.

Door slamming, the house shook,

It wasn’t rejection —

Claws of tiger digging,

It wasn’t the ache spiralling,

A corkscrew in my clavicle.

It wasn’t fatigue,

The floating leaves crackling,

Fall’s sudden chill,

Winter’s stark sting.

Words uninviting,

But a spade is a spade;

Your kindness a shark,

Large teeth, tail flicking.

Lies the black stripes,

Safari orange fur —

Mangled with spite,

Hidden behind decency.

The beast maimed;

Honesty infringed.

No intelligible motives,

As teeth rip to shreds.

But she set herself up,

And a spade is a spade.

The true queen reigns,

Not in dungeon’s keep.

The lady in red,

On her pedestal;

Floats and crackles,

Autumn’s crisp maple leaves,

Ragged and torn.

You’re better than that?

But he’s not.

Obese — vile words,

A tiger disgusted.

A question —

I crept into the den,

He was offended,

And I was prey,

Amusing —

With no matter.

His last words, claw cuts–

Sinking inside deep,

Where my stomach turns.

The ruby sun rose,

Blood flowed and flowed.

All because I have no control —

Because I was not born,

Demure and petite;

He spurned my art,

Thus, spurned my chest.

Three-years younger,

He’s thirteen years too young —

Inside.

But I bated the beast,

Naturally, his teeth revealed.

Tiger perplexed,

Slinking back to the den.

His side gapes,

Licking his wounds;

No winning against him,

In this game —

Not his type.

Inside his ribs,

Fat where is soul should be —

Deceit.

He thinks he knows,

But he can’t envision.

He has judged,

Growling a retort.

She laughs,

The rabbit slips away.


©Mandibelle16. (2018) All Rights Reserved.

#NaPoWriMo Day 9/Saturday Mix: Poem – Free Verse – “Montage” #amwriting #SaturdayMix #poetry #MLMM


For NaPoWriMo Day 9 the Prompt is: “to write a poem in which something big and something small come together.” Also thanks to Sarah from MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting Saturday Mix March 24, 2018, with her Same but Different Theme,to take the five challengewords and NOT use them in your writing; to find a synonym for each word instead.” The words are: 1) Lie, 2) Dive, 3) Realize, 4) Pass, 5) Red.


Credit: Catherine McMahon


Falseness of sound,

Tears glisten as —

Mermaids parade into ocean’s curve.

Waves echoing, golden sand glints;

Resolve to know.

Deliberate without inhibition,

Sweep the sands, as tears forge waters;

A crimson sky blossoms,

The rose thorn drawing blood.

Recognize I not,

The void of your eyes glistening;

Hollowness resides.

Simmers through flesh;

Leaping through dawn,

As sailors are warned.

Salt water incites —

Saline tears, as the sea’s violent waves.

Tiny droplets recognize,

Pain doesn’t end.

Drops of wine,

Mineral lakes where all do float;

Nothing dissolves,

Fear of the giant montage.

A glistening gate —

A screenshot of life.


©Mandibelle16.(2018) All Rights Reserved.