All throughout history, women in positions of power have been maliciously targeted, used, and even murdered. X is one such Queen. She is beheaded and, to her surprise, wakes in a magical grotto. This is the Haven of Broken Queens where a castle/school resides, where women who were wronged by the world are given a second chance at life and given powers to avenge themselves. The heads of the school include notable royals such as Marie Antoinette, Anne of Boleyn, Anastasia, Mary Queen of Scots, and Queen Elizabeth the first.
Category: Creative Writing
Evening Poems: Ending
Like feathers falling on fresh snow.
It’s the price we all pay.
Don’t shield your eyes.
From the oncoming day.
You are now empty-you can see it in your eyes.
They are now singing
For a new soul shall rise.
All must pass, my darling.
This much is true.
And they are all so happy to meet
Someone as lovely as you.
They say this is death.
The sad, sad ending.
But they are wrong.
This is the healing-this is the mending.
My Beginner Writing Mistakes
So recently I came across an old USB drive of mine when cleaning my desk. Upon plugging it into my computer, to my delight, I found that it contained tons of my old writing and stories that I had written awhile back. And while I was happy to stumble across this little piece of my writing history, I was hit with a realization: my writing sort of sucked.
This didn’t bother me mind you; I was like 11 writing the majority of these stories, but I also couldn’t help but notice a few writing mistakes that I tended to make consistently. Some of these I still struggle with and some of these I have moved past but regardless I found it beneficial to note them and state them in this blogpost in hopes that someone else making these same errors could get some advice or find this constructive to their own writing.
Enjoy my analysis of my flaws.
Not utilizing paragraph breaks.
Or if I did, I used them incorrectly. I think this just comes with more practice where you get a better feel for when it is the correct time to press “enter”, but at this time in my life, I did not have such a sense. I either do not utilize paragraph breaks enough, resulting in long, sprawling pages of text or I used them awkwardly where it didn’t even seem to fit. The rule, as I’m sure you’ve heard, is to press enter and use a paragraph break every single time the “camera” changes in your story. This means someone else begins to speak, an unrelated action occurs, or a new line of thought comes into play.
Too many dialogue tags.
My writing didn’t flow for a lot of reasons, but one of the main reasons it all felt so janky was I used waaaaay too many dialogue tags when writing. This caused the conversations to feel choppy and jilted and not at all natural.
“He said.” “She said”. “They said.”
Too many saids. Sometimes you should omit the tag and simply write what the character is saying only. Besides, a good writer makes characters that you can tell is speaking, simply by how they talk, not just by the “said” that the writer tacks on at the end.
Not enough dialogue tags.
There were a few times however, that I omitted the tags entirely too much. Certain stories I guess I simply didn’t care enough about and barely added any tags at all. In some cases, as I’m sure you can imagine, this became all too confusing and it was hard to keep track of who exactly was talking at times, especially when the conversation involved more than two characters and it wasn’t a sort of back and forth exchange.
Pro Tip:
Read your writing out loud, but especially the dialogue bits to make sure they flow.
Being overly flowery in my writing.
Another error of mine was just being plain pretentious in my writing style. How did I do this? By overly describing EVERYTHING and utilizing long (but admittedly fun) words. While I do remember finding this a fun way of writing, feeling almost like I was writing the script of a nature documentary for a British dude to read, it admittedly did not make for great story telling. My writing felt fluffy and long winded. So unless you’re specifically going for that pretentious vibe, I’d try and avoid it.
Being redundant (failing to expand my vocab when it came to words I use a lot)
There are just some words I struggle to find stand-ins for but it would have definitely benefited me to look up a list of synonyms for the word “smiled” before I ever wrote ANYTHING. My advice to you is know the words you tend to regurgitate and before you even start writing, look up or compose a list of alternatives to resort to later when you feel you’re repeating yourself way too much.
And that’s it! Those are all the main issues I found with my earlier writing. And while I’d love to say the stuff I put out now is WORLDSSSS better, I would venture to say it isn’t. Despite having written for 6 more years, I still find myself struggling with much of the same stuff, especially when it comes to the issue of redundancy. This goes to show that we will never be perfect as writers but that still doesn’t mean we can’t improve. And we do that by knowing our downfalls and, probably most importantly, continuing to practice and hone our craft.
Happy writing!
Writing Prompt: How to Train Your Cryptid
A group of teens find themselves at a very odd summer camp…
The woods nearby are teeming with odd wild life and the counselors tell then tales at night about the beautiful beasts that once roamed the earth that were forced into hiding.
The second week of camp it is revealed that this is a camp where teens are trained to house and protect different cryptids, choosing one specifically as their own companion.
The campers are arranged into “cabins”:
Nessie
Sasquatch
Yeti
Thunderbird
Jackalope
Kraken
Writing Prompt: The World in a Clock
A girl goes to visit a grandparents house only to find a giant grandfather clock covered in a dropcloth in the attic. In an almost Narnia/Alice in Wonderland style story, she opens the clock’s door and finds it big enough to walk through. Inside she finds a clock inspired world facing a threat that she must stop.
Evening Poems: Twenty-Something
People rarely say what they are feeling. We mask our hearts in a cloak of quiet.
Why do we stay silent?
But what do I know?
I’m only twenty-something.
We travel around the sun on this floating rock and yet we do not believe in miracles.
When did we let cynicism poison us?
But what do I know?
I’m only twenty-something.
We have forgotten what it means to have faith in something because in the end it all disappoints.
But isn’t that the point of faith?
But what do I know?
I’m only twenty-something.
Rain actually feels quite nice and yet we complain and pull out our coats in annoyance.
Have you forgotten what it feels like?
But what do I know?
I’m only twenty-something.
But someday we will age. And we will regret not allowing our breath to be taken away or not pausing in the downpour or holding our tongues.
Because as we all know,
You will not always be twenty-something.
Evening Poems: Anger
Anger is a feeling you should feel
But never house.
When his stay is over,
Know when to take his coat from the closet,
And let him go.
Some make the mistake of letting him overstay his welcome
Offer him a bed to rest.
For anger is a distant relative you can let in only for a time or he will eat you out of house and home.
Let him sit at the table but not the head.
Let him only once sip the wine and break the bread.
But when the clock strikes late
Send him on his way.
Anger is only a feeling that is felt-
But should never stay.
Evening Poems: To be an Artist
I romanticize my suffering,
And then I call it art.
Pathetic is now pretty,
Because it is from the heart.
Cutting words are poetry,
Because now they rhyme .
Beats that flow perfectly.
Words that read in time.
Bleeding is now beautiful.
The pain to be a creator.
This is my written world,
And I am the dictator.
And so I will write them,
To any who will listen.
But little do they know,
The words I weave are my prison.
Evening Poems: Little Things
People say that little things are what makes life worth living for.
The little rays of sunshine and coffee that warms you to your core.
But what if the little things are what can kill you too?
Thing after thing piles on and ends up crushing you.
Spilling that glass of your favorite drink
Failing that class and crying till you cant think.
A head cold that normally wouldn’t matter.
You find yourself sinking sadder and sadder.
Gas prices are up; they shut down a line.
I find it a lie to simply say “I’m fine.”
I need a new job with vastly better pay.
Friends that love and actually stay.
And I have found that I can’t taste.
But it doesn’t matter because money spent on the unnecessary feels like a waste.
I’m broke now. Emotionally too.
They say it gets better.
But I waited so long- so what now do I do?
Evening Poems: Anxiety
Anxiety is man,
He tells earnestly
For what I should worry
But as I focus on his features
He seems to be blurry
So I’ve come to find out
He thinks he knows best
In his well trimmed suit
With a velvet vest.
But his words are empty
A spiral of care.
Obsession dressed in good intentions
To hide the nightmare.

