Posts tagged writing
The Word Girl
"a word, after a word, after a word is power" -Margret Atwood
She could call up a storm with a single thread of her raven hair and draw down the rains with a petal - Witches Thimble. - Siobhan Rodgers
I’m working on my Weather Watcher narrative as we move into summer, more over on my Ink and Light blogs…
She was brought up on a diet of spells and tea, fairy tales and candle light, flowers in her hair and dancing barefoot ‘til dawn; after that there isn’t many ways a girl can go…
(Source: inkandlightarts, via inkandlightarts)
Ink and Light
My long term writing and diary type blog… You can leave me notes there too…
Howlin’
Some days she thinks she could outrun it, just run, run until it is far behind her. An itch builds under her skin and an ache in her chest, urging her to hurl herself into that wind and vanish, run until her bones twist and bend, until they form limbs meant for something older than this place, run until her hair smells of the dark places of the forest, damp and earthy, and until she is so tired she could sleep the winter gone.
Some days she thinks she could jump, she could stand on that edge with nothing but vast air before her and jump; her raven hair would untangle into feathers, sleek and inky, and her outstretched arms would set her free.
But not today, today she is of this world, tethered and biding her time.
The Word Girl
At night I don’t sleep, I write, pouring ink onto paper with my heart; stories, poetry and ideas, snippets of beautiful things, a comfort, a distraction from the dark. Each morning my fingers are covered in ink, as blue as the dawn, and is that the mark of a writer? My mother says I was born to this; before I knew the alphabet, before there was school and exercise books full of copied letters, I was writing, covering pages in tiny ooooooooo’s, broken like words on an inked page, telling my parents with all the exasperation a toddler can muster that I was writing a story, as if they were in my way or costing me time. And so these twenty something years later I write, words now, magical, strange, distracting words; my comfort blanket, my saviour; for a word, after a word, after a word is power…. *
I’ve been careful with my words, locking them in drawers and only giving them to those I trusted with my life or more, but I’ve needed feedback, constructive and insightful and so I’ve started a new blog “The Word Girl” (because yes, I need four…) in the place of a writing group I had been planning to attend and which fell though, so dear Internet, please be my writing group? Read and comment, prompt me, push me, send me links, please? S Xx
*Margaret Atwood “Spelling”
