I outline fairly extensively because I'm usually dealing with real events. I don't need to give myself as much information as I used to, but I still like to have two pages of outline for every projected 100 pages of manuscript.
quote by Chelsea Quinn Yarbro
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Destiny Life Leaf Pages
manuscripts we all life write
destiny life leaf pages
some leave empty pages white
others shimmer reflecting light
some smear pages with dirt
record chaos rip rub out hurt
how shall we fill manuscript pages...
poem by Terence George Craddock
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The research is the easiest. The outline is the most fun. The first draft is the hardest, because every word of the outline has to be fleshed out. The rewrite is very satisfying.
quote by Ken Follett
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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It’s time to seal my father’s book
The one I’ve been given while he was still alive
Sometime before the year 2000
I filled it in last year
After so many years of not writing
Posted some of its contents
It contains
Like so many previously empty pages
Lots of something and bits of half nothing
And I’m sure that this peace of information is totally irrelevant
For the readers
Except for the fact
That there are always pages that need to remain just that
The pages and nothing else
Even though they contain things that should not be forgotten
That will not be forgotten
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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The Memory Place
Shelves tower over me; crowed with bound pages
of events, people, places, ideas.
Of memories.
Of captured feelings pressed like flowers between the pages;
for people to be inspired by someone else's words.
My eyes caress the titles printed on bright spines
as I run my fingers across
what holds the memories together.
I pick up a book, turning yellowed pages,
the scent of gentle time traveling to my nose.
I close my eyes and smile:
it brings back memories of my own,
but these pages are not for me.
I put back the soft bundle of pages
and continued to search in the Memory Place
until I find my own belonging among the words.
poem by Zoe Guillory
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Animals outline their territories with their excretions, humans outline their territories by ink excretions on paper.
quote by Robert Anton Wilson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I always work from an outline, so I know all the of the broad events and some of the finer details before I begin writing the book.
quote by Mercedes Lackey
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The Rift, which was well over a thousand pages of manuscript, took two years.
quote by Walter Jon Williams
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Tracks, Trails, Lines and pages
Tracks in forests… of woodland creatures
Trails of shooting stars in summer skies
Tracks of rockets o’er bloody battlefields
Traces of wrinkles round wizened eyes
Lines of wisdom on wrinkled faces
Lines of ants upon the floor
Lines of prose on parchment pages
Lines of carts inside the stores
Pages of life, inside old diarys
Pages dog-eared to mark the places
Pages filled with tales sad and fiery
Pages filled with empty spaces
poem by David Whalen
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Books
The universe (which others call the library). . .
-Jorge Luis Borges
Books which are stitched up the center with coarse white thread
Books on the beach with sunglass-colored pages
Books about food with pictures of weeping grapefruits
Books about baking bread with browned corners
Books about long-haired Frenchmen with uncut pages
Books of erotic engravings with pages that stick
Books about inns whose stars have sputtered out
Books of illuminations surrounded by darkness
Books with blank pages & printed margins
Books with fanatical footnotes in no-point type
Books with book lice
Books with rice-paper pastings
Books with book fungus blooming over their pages
Books with pages of skin with flesh-colored bindings
Books by men in love with the letter O
Books which smell of earth whose pages turn
poem by Erica Jong
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My Mom, The One Who Never Gave Up!
Anybody can give birth but it takes someone with as much integrity and hope, someone with as caring a heart and the amount of strength in which you have shown through out your life to be a real awsome and good enough mother to bring up beautiful girls of which you gave birth to and many other children in which you did not give birth! we thank you soooooooooo much mom and i gauruntee you that god smiles when he turns pages in the book of life and sees only you on one of the pages this page being titled 'The One mother who never gave up! '
poem by Sarah Stetler
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What Is Written In Red
I am written in red,
I am sliding across the page of life.
I am racing across the lines of language.
I am red.
I write words,
I create lines and sentences,
I am kept in solitude
I am red.
I create paragraphs.
I create signatures.
I know what you're thinking before you speak,
I am red.
I cannot breath because I am enclosed in a capsule.
A capsule that covers the knowledge inside.
All I do is stare at pages,
All I know is pages,
I become apart of the pages,
And the pages become apart of me.
I become apart of english,
I become apart of words,
I am RED.
BY: Takisha Fields
poem by Kiesha fields
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I'll write maybe one long paragraph describing the events, then a page or two breaking the events into chapters, and then reams of pages delving into my characters. After that, I'm ready to begin.
quote by Anne Tyler
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Written In Blood And Love
In pages written in blood, in pages written love.
Stories are told of you grow old together.
Live to dieing forever.
Scarred by the pain of misery.
Scarred by the imperfections the have created so many rejections.
Give me the antidote to the poison that I have slipped in my own drink.
Let me breath the life in again.
Drowned out all the cowardliness of my angel who holding me up.
Such a beautiful crutch.
Still in the pages written in blood, in the pages written love.
We are just one of millions.
Every story is the same.
All that's changed is the names, places, and faces.
Erase it all.
Rewrite the entire fall.
Let the wind take me.
Let the lightning strike me here and now.
For i will not let it cloud my judgement.
No matter the storm that's brought on.
In the pages written in blood, in the pages written in love
Hate me for the right reasons
Hate me because I am what you wanted me to be.
In all the irony.
I didn't change for you.
It was done way before you came along and sang your song.
All the pages have been written, in blood and love.
The Shakespeare play Romeo and Juliet to the fullest.
Its the cruelest games in tragedy strikes without a ounce of leniency.
No mercy to those who are jumping without a life line.
Protection against the evil of an accident so quick.
A slip becomes a fall.
Next your trying to stall buy a little time.
But its in vain.
Nothing can be changed.
Its sink or swim till you reach shore.
So long off stripped of everything you thought was important.
Values so mixed up in these pages written in blood, in the pages written in love.
We have killed another pair of doves.
poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
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The Barricades Of Heaven
Running down around the towns along the shore
When I was sixteen and on my own
No, I couldnt tell you what the hell those brakes were for
I was just trying to hear my song
Jimmy found his own sweet sound and won that free guitar
Wed all get in the van and play
Life became the paradox, the bear, the rouge et noir
And the stretch of road running to l.a.
Pages turning
Pages we were years from learning
Straight into the night our hearts were flung
Better bring your own redemption when you come
To the barricades of heaven where Im from
All the world was shining from those hills
The stars above and the lights below
Among those there to test their fortunes and their wills
I lost track of the score long ago
Pages turning
Pages we were years from learning
Straight into the night our hearts were flung
Better bring your own redemption when you come
To the barricades of heaven where Im from
Childhood comes for me at night
Voices of my friends
Your face bathing me in light
Hope that never ends
Pages turning
Pages torn and pages burning
Faded pages, open in the sun
Better bring your own redemption when you come
To the barricades of heaven where Im from.
Better bring your own redemption when you come
To the barricades of heaven where Im from.
song performed by by Jackson Browne
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Pages Of My Mind
Faces from my past flicker
through the pages of my mind
along with shadowy figures
I wish I had left behind.
Old loves and new loves
smile and say hello as they pass
through the pages of my mind.
They come in quiet moments
when I am at peace with the world.
Reflecting images of times left behind.
There are no future images,
as those pages haven’t been written yet,
only ones from a distant past.
They stroll across with happy moments
written on the pages of my mind.
11 January 2009
poem by David Harris
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A Molested Porcupine On My Head
Regarding the daily disintegration of my bad haircut
in awed astonishment, the moth-eaten ends forming
the outline of a badly battered mop
No amount of hair-spray, coaxing and determined blow-
waving can save the mutilated hair from resembling a
molested porcupine nestling on my head
Even greater my fascinated discovery that hubby thinks my
hair looks good, I made five backward somersaults in my
shock at his heresy, how strange the world
That he should like my Last-Of-The-Mohicans outline today,
I suppose I’m not a crocodile any more, more an electrified
hedgehog from now on...
poem by Margaret Alice
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Between the pages
Between the pages
~
between the pages
we line ourselves in verse
where we play out a story
of our own making
the turns and twists
brought through words
etched upon the page
ink flows to its own beat
like a raging heart
pouring out before the eyes
a world becomes forgotten
lost in the celebration
between pages
each line shared
written
in its own breath
creation begins
time lapses
into our verse
poem by Matthew Holloway
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Eighty Days
Staring down from this high window
At the faces in the line
Cold from hours of waiting
How many people can you love?
When you're black and blue with bruises
From collisions on the road
The friction grind of travelling
This is the never ending show
All over the world in eighty days
Head in a blur of information
What kind of a man could live this way
I do what I can
I do okay
But right now
All I want to do
Is get real
If that's all right with you
Woke up last night under the mountains
Driving from Zurich to Milan
I lay there listening to the echoes
Thinking of Iceland and Japan
So many smiles, so many faces
And my home so far away
I lose some of me in all these places
And I can't help the way I'm changed
All over the world in eighty days
Memories turn like magazine pages
What kind of a man could live this way
I do what I can
But I can't escape it
Right now
All I want to do
Is get real
If that's all right with you
Right now
All I want to do
Somehow
Be myself with you
All over the world in eighty days
Alcohol haze of information
What kind of a man could live this way
As long as I have
And stay the same
Right now
All I want to do
Is get real
If that's all right with you
Right now
All I want to do
Get real
If that's all right with you
For just one night with you
If that's all right with you
Get real
Get real right now
Somehow
song performed by by Marillion
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I write five pages a day. If you would read five pages a day, we'd stay right even.
quote by Robert B. Parker
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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We went to the British Museum, and I was looking up my family in the books - pages and pages on it.
quote by Nicholas Lea
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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