I have been writing since I was a child, and I won my first poetry competition when I was about eleven years old. I have never been particularly confident, however. As I grew older, I wrote less and kept whatever I wrote to myself. In 2012, while on maternity leave, I answered some adverts for content writers and quickly established a returning customer base. Rather than return to work, I decided to leave my full-time job. I, therefore, became self-employed and established my own writing company providing content writing services.
Yesterdays might have made you lose your might,
But bear in mind your will’s stronger than fore
Lots ’bout you I shall will to bring to light
So the world may learn you were meant to soar.
For writers, what is the purpose to set up a smokescreen, apart from flashing their sparks of creativity? Again, a simple answer is this: Nobody likes to read simple things. The creative tools employed by writers actually engage readers in the story, and that’s how storytellers successfully bring the readers to the last page of the book. So what narrative strategies do writers use in their creations? Some of the popular ones are allusion, dramatic irony, humour, imagery, motif, suspense, symbolism and others.
A tangerine sun
Came to rest awhile
Upon the tranquility of a placid sea
Where it sipped at the waters
A’shimmer in the crepuscular haze
As they lapped at the distant horizon
Says Mr Elustondo, who has had the opportunity to travel to many countries in Europe, Asia, and Latin America, ‘I would say that in writing, as in anything else in life, nothing comes easy and requires perseverance, self-confidence, and believing in what you are doing. Learning from a set-back should be a powerful motivator to move forward and become successful. It requires a cool mind and self-searching to understand why sometimes things do not go as we expect and whether we truly believe in our goals. Keep writing and reading since this helps us hone our skills and discover new forms of expression.’
Her legs are now treading artfully,
Stopping once she reaches her destination;
She’s content, for schools are now reopened,
Gladdened is she at the prospect of
Meeting new students,
And… making money.
She has never been to school though.
The picture of the goddess I replaced women with.
The treasure I use to seek,
The figure I use to chase.
He began to chuckle to himself
when he saw pictures of the joyous moments
he and his wife had shared on the shelf.
He then turned his head
to the other armchair that was empty;
He just stared at it longingly.
He turned his head once again
because he’d thought he
heard from the kitchen
his sweet wife Nan saying ,
‘I’ll put the kettle on dear.’
Winds wind well while cold months, worn, weakened, get wound down;
Assailing coldness that has done a lot of wrongs,
Heralding spring, a season as bright as the Sun
As plants beam, flower, making us sing many songs…
Author Justin Monroe has always considered himself a writer. Even while struggling with dyslexia at Elementary School, the author, who, beyond a shadow of a doubt, proves to be a great source of inspiration, considered Creative Writing his favourite subject. ‘For my senior project at High School, I wrote my first full-length manuscript and did a research project on the publishing process. Back in 2002, the pathway to being published besides the self-publishing market was so difficult that I moved onto more practical career paths. However, throughout college and most of my life, I always found time to write, whether stories, blog posts or Dungeons and Dragons campaigns,’ he begins, speaking to The Literary Juggernaut in an exclusive interaction.
Having established herself as a professional writer, Ms Brett, who can also speak French albeit not very fluently, tells us that one of her works in progress deals with a young woman, a professional violinist, who was in a camp orchestra at Auschwitz. ‘She returns to Montreal in a borrowed body forty years later, meets Leonard Cohen in a café, and together they work to discover her mission. She is a folkloric character, an ibbur, a spirit who returns in corporeal form to do good in the world,’ she lets on.
Going on to aver that writing is a career for him even if he does not make a living at it, Mr Link, who has studied Spanish, Japanese, and Brazilian Portuguese, tells us he thinks authors get too tied to the financial aspect of writing, and that’s not the bar he sets for his success. ‘I want to reach people so they’ll read my stories and enjoy them, not so I can quit my day job. That’s one of the reasons I love Kindle Unlimited. People can read me for free,’ he says.
There is some harmony in chaos,
Mayhem in the way the enemies march to their doom,
The sense of morbid familiarity when the drums are struck,
The beats uniting all the warriors, be it friends or foe.
Lets-call-her-Lee had long dreamed
of changing her name
and taking a Greyhound
to someplace deemed safe
Embolism, spiral and residue,
Crepuscules, pinnacle pentacle tentacle.
When the surge breaks and births
Glinting in Poseidon’s trident,
The slow knotted crippled mandible
The long night of knives wet.
When I was young, I’d longed to float and fly
Because the welkin charmed, allured me much;
I’d hankered after gladness and pure bliss,
The airy, blue expanse I’d hoped to touch.
Such a cruel joke it would seem; as he is already
gone, but actually perfection with all things
considered. Only he can still hold her.
The cricket’s nocturnal song was the only familiar sound giving them a hint of comfort as they waded through the swamp, cutting down the overgrown leaves and protruding roots upon their path. The moon’s bluish-grey glow made the foreign land seem more exotic than they had imagined, yet the sight of skeletons reaching out from the ground for help dispelled any notion that they were holidaying.