I don't think there's any great mystery to writing female characters, so long as you talk to them. If you lived in a monastery and never met any women, maybe it would be difficult.
quote by Ken Follett
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We're showing kids a world that is very scantily populated with women and female characters. They should see female characters taking up half the planet, which we do.
quote by Geena Davis
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I grew up in a house full of women: my mother, grandmother, three sisters, and two female cats. And I still have the buzz of their conversations in my head. As an adult, I have more female friends than male ones: I just love the way that women talk.
quote by James Patterson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Mirror Image
How many times when reading a book,
do we identify with the characters within?
Their traits they have we share,
their loves and heartaches
their lives go through somehow mirror our own.
It’s as if the author was writing about us.
As though he has put us under a microscope
and then writing down everything, he saw.
However, we know this isn’t so
because he or she has written
segments of their own life
and by accident they happen to mirror ours.
Every writer will tell you
that they have their characters under control.
Having written numerous novels,
I know the characters take on a life of their own
and do what they want to do.
We become their instrument as they guide us on our way.
We end up writing what they want us to say.
To every writer his characters are real,
they live, breathe and feel.
The more you write about them,
the more alive they become.
So the next time you pick up a book
and the characters seem real,
they probably are to the author
who looks after them.
24 September 2008
poem by David Harris
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Is It The Hormone Of God?
women of portions, pleasant and attractive,
women of notion, free and enterprising,
women of vision, counting and galloping,
women of illusion, courting, and suffering.
women of innocence, birthing and lactating,
women of emotions, loving and longing,
women of pride, working and worrying,
women of gays, polluting and mutating.
Female are the reasons for the birth of gays,
as they dispose the hormones in the water ways.
Female are the reasons, for the men to be mutated,
for spiking the air and the land to be adulterated.
When you look at a man with a swinging hip,
when you hear a man with softened voice,
when you see a man with shiny cheeks,
when you glance a man with a tight pants,
Stop blaming them as if they are oriented,
blame these women who spiked them with female hormones,
even before they were born, during their growth,
blame these governments that want the profits,
playing with hormones in every useful female species.
poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi
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I have this theory that the likeability question comes up so much more with female characters created by female authors than it does with male characters and male authors.
quote by Curtis Sittenfeld
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Why Is It So Hard For Me Now?
Why is it so hard for me now?
Why is so difficult to get going?
Why is it so difficult to feel anything I do
really means much of anything?
Why am I so down now?
I have resisted this before
I will resist it again
Somehow along the way
Something will come and get me interested again
Somehow I will get out of it
But for now
I am in it deeply
And do not know how to get out.
Even writing this does not bring hope
The way ‘writing' once did
I am really down now
Perhaps writing this
Will get me going
A little.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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The fact that my female characters have strong personalities but are also physically attractive probably reflects the women I've known in my life.
quote by Sidney Sheldon
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Women, Teach Men Your Gentleness
Is it men or women who work the
most in slaughterhouses?
Is it men or women who are
most involved in domestic battering?
Is it men or women who commit
the most rapes?
Is it men or women who
vote for the most executions?
Is it men or women who promote
war, vote for war, kill in war?
Is it men or women who as
'talk show hosts' allow no talk?
Is it men or women who
are more often pedophiles?
Is it men or women who torture
lab animals more?
*********
Writer asks forgiveness of old soul men reading this poem.
As an attorney for the defense exaggerates and is selective
in what she presents, so it is with this poem.
It is the teaching of several religions and the belief of the poster
that we go back and forth between male and female incarnations
as we spiral down the inner ladder to the Indwelling God
The military and hunting organizations socialize gentle men into
believing they must murder voiceless powerless beings in order
to prove their masculinity. It is a lie from hell.
poem by O. Anna Niemus
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Trouser Enthusiast
Feminism is my middle name,
For I fight for the right for female empowerment,
I don't like women being treated like second class citizens,
I want all women to have equal opportunities,
To live in the same community with the same rights,
I am glad women have the vote,
That there're female doctors, nurses, lawyers and the suchlike,
For I am a trouser enthusiast through and through,
But I am not butch, although I do wear lipstick,
For women shouldn't have to look like a girl,
Talk like a man and think like a woman,
Women should not have to change into something they're not,
But feminism has taken charge for the century just gone,
Women fighting for their social freedom and not allowing themselves,
To be treated like a sex object, for a woman isn't just a body:
A woman has a brain and deserves to be treated with respect,
Not to be treated in an inferior way,
And women have learnt to wear the trousers in the relationship,
And don't accept or tolerate abuse and won't allow themselves to be used,
For this is derogatory and the lowest of the low,
And all women, young and old, need to know,
That they deserve respect in any relationship and any violent man,
Needs to be kicked to the kerb and shown the door.
poem by Paula Glynn
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What's so difficult...
What's so difficult,
About the word,
No.
What's so difficult,
About our,
Relationship.
What's so difficult,
About,
Us.
What's so difficult,
About the words,
Stay away.
What's so difficult,
About,
Don't talk to me.
What's so difficult...
poem by Dragon Crenshaw
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Character is something you forge for yourself; temperament is something you are born with and can only slightly modify. Some people have easy temperaments and weak characters; others have difficult temperaments and strong characters. We are all prone to confuse the two in assessing people we associate with. Those with easy temperaments and weak characters are more likable than admirable; those with difficult temperaments and strong characters are more admirable than likable. Of course, the optimum for a person is to possess both an easy temperament and a strong character, but this is a rare combination, and few of us are that lucky.
quote by Sydney J. Harris
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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The Poem I Am Writing Now
The poem I am writing now
does not know if it will be finished
it does not even know if it will be a poem -
it is slowly appearing line by line
and making its own meaning on the page-
Is it worth anything?
will anyone care?
I don't know -
The poem I am writing now
is just these lines
and these lines like all lines
are only small words
in a vast universe
that has long lived
and will probably longer live
without them.
Why then write these words now?
The poem I am writing now is saying,
'I am here now'.
But why should this mean anything to anyone else?
The poem I have written here
is not the poem I would have posted here
It is only the poem I am finishing now
a poem without great love or belief in itself.
The poem I am writing now
is written.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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The man I lived with is a Christian, so I would talk to him about it. What would this person do in the Bible? What's the story around this person? Generally, when people talk about characters in the Bible, there's one thing they're known for, like Job.
quote by Lucinda Williams
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Come Alive In Writing
I come alive in writing
Even if the writing means nothing to anyone else-
I come alive in writing
Even if I am totally deluding myself as to its value-
I come alive in writing
Even if at times while writing there is an underlying hopelessness and despair -
I come alive in writing
As if writing is what God has given me to do-
I come alive in writing
As if through it I can truly give to and help others-
I come alive in writing
As if life has meaning through it-
I come alive in writing
Even when I sense the writing is not good or great
As I would wish it to be.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Women are martyrs
Loss of virtue in a female
Is irretrievable.
One’s reputation is no less brittle
Than it is beautiful.
With this inculcated,
Women could ward off men
And forgo her erotic pleasure.
Women are great martyrs.
12.12.2004
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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The great mystery is why robots come off so well in science-fiction films when the human characters are often so astoundingly wooden.
quote by John Podhoretz
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Look Good, Feel Good
I sat in Pelligrini’s kitchen writing
when a familiar group
of female customers sat beside me
and talked.
The distaff ringleader said,
“I could go for a girl” while
the other late twenty-somethings giggled.
“No really, women look better_than men
smell better... are better communicators_
tactful... idealistic”
And I drifted off dreamily
thinking_“feel nice...
look really good together”_
but my dream turned dark
when I recalled that every man
has looked at a curvacious, vision splendid
and asked “What do they see in us? ”
I woke in fright_
these women were right
women are better
soon all women will realise this
and take up with other women
and the world will be full
of lonely, desperate, dateless
heterosexual men_redundant,
outta work... chasin’ skirt_
if it weren’t for that little thing...
called
sperm.
It Is Me
He sat in his own world
writing down the stories
that came to his mind.
He never watched time,
for him there
was no time.
He wrote stories of love,
of mystery and suspense.
He wrote of everything
that popped into his head.
He was not a lonely person
as his characters kept him company.
He wrote things
for every writing sphere,
but there was one thing
he could not write
which may come as a surprise
to everyone.
He could not write a letter
no matter how hard he tried.
His mind went completely blank
whenever he tried.
Yet he could write
just about everything else.
He could write songs,
he could write stories at will.
He could write poems
on everything,
but writing a letter
was something he could not do.
Now all who read this
might take it as a joke,
but it is very true
every word I have spoke,
and how would I know that.
The answer is simple it is me.
19 April 2008
poem by David Harris
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Fortunate are females
Among kids, girls are lovelier.
Among singers, women are appealing.
Women dancers are pretty to watch.
Female models are models everywhere.
All magazines carry female torso.
Why?
Only men have lust in eyes.
29.05.2001, Berham
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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A Victorian Superstar
A literary genius was born this day
Charles John Huffam Dickens was he
two hundred years ago in 1812
he wrote great classics like Nicholas Nickleby.
Writing by candlelight using quill and ink
he created stories that will never end
great characters like Oliver Twist and Scrooge
and novels such as Little Dorrit and Our Mutual Friend.
On his shoulder perched Grip his pet Raven
at his feet his dog Timber Doodle would sit
as Dickens wrote for hours and hours
about the exploits of Edwin Drood and Martin Chuzzlewit.
If he was alive today he'd be bigger than Elvis
then again he was way ahead of his time
living in the harsh Victorian era
he would write about corruption, poverty, and crime.
He liked to give his characters wacky names
inspired by people on the streets and in the pub
like Jerry Cruncher, Mr Fang, Horatio Fizkin,
Toby Crackit, Mrs Spittletoes, and Gabriel Grub.
So happy birthday Mr Dickens and many thanks
for your great books and characters full of fun
these novels are still being enjoyed today
so long live A Christmas Carol and Dombey and Son.
Charles Dickens born 7th of February 1812.
poem by Kevin Halls
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