The Word Girl: A →
#the word girl
He’s the shadow lingering on the edge of your nightmare. He’s the teenage dream you conjured some lonely midnight. You knew really, they’re the same thing. His heart is darker than that wool coat he hides it behind, a demon named all wrong, all cool and easy charm and a closed fist. His eyes are…
Practicing characterisation over on The Word Girl, using my old loves as inspiration, I’m hoping no one is offended and I get some feedback on my writing, please if you have a minute, hop on over and leave me a note? Thank you Xx
The Word Girl
#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”
"Black as a raven, dark as a hearse,
black as jealousy and deep dark earth.
White as snow and pure as love,
pale as bone and snowy dove.
Red as blood, raw as grief
red as birth and pure silk sheath.
Black beady eye and feathers white
red evening sky and his wings taking flight"
#The Juniper Tree
The Juniper Tree - Siobhan Rodgers 2011
(text for the piece)
"Those stars whirling overhead
snow like sherbet on her tongue
the red maps calling her onward
And she isn’t china and porcelain
she’s chaos theory and between the lines
she’s fire and patience
and a pair of red shoes…"
#the red shoes
The Red Shoes - Siobhan Rodgers 2011
(Text for the piece)
"A brave man would have left them be
appreciated them for what they were
a wild thing
charmed and tousled.
As it was he cut and pulled
until all that remained were neat stumps
brown and hopeless"
-Briar Rose, Siobhan Rodgers 2011
(The text on the wall beside the previously posted piece…)