Five Quotes about Writing – Part 4

suri hudstedt what i love

“The irony of writing well
is that it requires
an immense inner world,

which is at least
in part
made up
of the books
one has read,

the hundreds of voices
from the past
that speak from within.

At the same time,
no one can write
without “adaptive grandiosity.”

Adaptive grandiosity is
an inner belief
that what you have to say,

your inner feelings,
thoughts,
imaginings

are somehow
of value
to the rest
of the world.”

~ Siri Hustvedt

Siri Hustvedt- norsk/am. forfatter fra New York. Utkommet med ny bok på Aschehoug forlag.

— Siri Hustvedt is an American novelist and essayist. She has written a book of poetry, five novels, two books of essays, and several works of non-fiction. Siri Hustvedt, born 19 February 1955

Siri Hustvedt

Weekly Writing Prompt #51

door-template-instructions

(5) Words: | WATCH | EDGE | PROOF | PAUSE | SOOTH |

=====================
Poetry Suggestions
=====================
Haiku (5 – 7 – 5)
Tanka (5 – 7 – 5 – 7 – 7)
Shadorma (3 – 5 – 3 – 3 – 7 – 5)
6 lines–no rhymes–multiple stanzas[own choice]–follow meter
Nonet (9 – 8 – 7 – 6 – 5 – 4 – 3 – 2 – 1) progression downward
Cinquain (2 – 4 – 6 – 8 – 2) five-line poem-any theme
’28’ Form (4 x 7) or (7 x 4) lines & syllables
Free Verse – No Limitations
All Use Syllable Count Except Free Verse
[Anything goes in Free Verse]
See [POETRY PAGE] for further instructions
=====================
Fictional Suggestions
====================
Flash Fiction (500 – 300 words)
Any Genre: Mystery-Sci-Fi–Fantasy–Horror–Literary
=====================
SUGGESTIONS FOR FLASH FICTION
***One main character
***Room for one scene
***Main conflict in first sentence
***Room for a single plot
***Room for a single, simple theme
***SHOW anything related to the main conflict
***TELL the backstory; don’t “show” it
***Save the twist until the end
***Eliminate all but essential words

Use your best judgement
=====================

Remembrance: Marcel Proust #59

Remembrance: Marcel Proust
Part #59
Moments from
“Remembrance of Things Past”

NOISE OF THE WIND

“From the sound of pattering raindrops
I recaptured the scent
of the lilacs at Combray;
from the shifting of the sun’s rays
on the balcony
the pigeons in the Champs-Elysées;
from the muffling of sounds
in the heat of the morning hours,
the cool taste of cherries;
the longing for Brittany
or Venice
from the noise of the wind
and the return of Easter.

Summer was at hand,
the days were long,
the weather was warm.
It was the season when,
early in the morning,
pupils and teachers
repair to the public gardens
to prepare
for the final examinations
under the trees,
seeking to extract
the sole drop of coolness
vouchsafed by a sky
less ardent
than in the midday heat
but already
as sterilely pure.”

― Marcel Proust

ghost of proust at grave

‘Spirit from the Past’ © j.kiley

Losing My Religion


Losing My Religion – R.E.M.

LOSING MY RELIGION

Oh life, it’s bigger
It’s bigger than you
And you are not me
The lengths that I will go to
The distance in your eyes
Oh no, I’ve said too much
I set it up

That’s me in the corner
That’s me in the spotlight
Losing my religion
Trying to keep up with you
And I don’t know if I can do it
Oh no, I’ve said too much
I haven’t said enough

I thought that I heard you laughing
I thought that I heard you sing
I think I thought I saw you try

Every whisper
Of every waking hour
I’m choosing my confessions
Trying to keep an eye on you
Like a hurt, lost and blinded fool, fool
Oh no, I’ve said too much
I set it up

Consider this
Consider this, the hint of the century
Consider this, the slip
That brought me to my knees, failed
What if all these fantasies come
Flailing around
Now I’ve said too much

I thought that I heard you laughing
I thought that I heard you sing
I think I thought I saw you try

But that was just a dream
That was just a dream

That’s me in the corner
That’s me in the spotlight
Losing my religion
Trying to keep up with you
And I don’t know if I can do it
Oh no, I’ve said too much
I haven’t said enough

I thought that I heard you laughing
I thought that I heard you sing
I think I thought I saw you try

But that was just a dream
Try, cry, why try
That was just a dream
Just a dream
Just a dream, dream

Those Who Wander

'those who wander' © j.kiley 16

‘those who wander’ © j.kiley 16

THOSE WHO WANDER
by j.kiley

wander the woods
find the words
descriptions fill dreams

become friends
with the trees
imagine animals
horses to ride upon
branches for saddles

hold tight
daydreams begin to soar
places in the mind
escaping – leaving

what was before
behind
not lost
just
don’t want to be
found

© j.kiley 16

*Surreal Chess by Marcel DuChamp
Modifications to Image by j.kiley