Chatroom Grand Reopening!

We want to hear from you!!!
Please send us a note regarding any accomplishments or successes as a writer/author so that we might feature you!

Newest Members: thewritersmeow.deviantart.com/…

Propaganda-X's   poem, “Sally of Arc”, has been selected for the book “Eternal Verses”!

  Witch of Nature just published her first DA news article, which is part of a book she is writing and can be seen here: news.deviantart.com/article/46…

Fallenidle   I their my first short story/poem book published last December, "Rarely Pure and Never Simple", and it's still selling well.

Mattiello   Is about to publish a book entitled "Counting Clouds", and is working as an editor on another book.

MDog02 One of his local institutions of higher learning is publishing his poem "Summer by the Shore" in their annual literary magazine, "Poets and Writers". He gets to go to the reception and reading on May 2nd, where he'll meet the other writers and get his complimentary copy of the anthology.

SpunkOnAStick has a logo
for her publishing company now:
:thumb82867825:

We've got a new contest in the works, quite unlike anything we've done before ... to be announced April 25th!

Scroll down to see the club chatroom grand reopening!




Thanks to all who participated!  This was a lot of fun!

Last week's Roll Call: F, H, I, &  M!

YouI love you,
I hate you,
I don't know you.
Hands covering mouth and nose,
Eyes bright with tears.
Terrified,
Not of you,
Never you.
Of what I've become
Because of you.
This guilt, this shock
It all comes back to you.
So here I stand,
Dizzy with fear.
How could I have done what I did,
Think what I thought,
Hear what I heard
And still be alive?
Surely I can't be alive.
After all, there's nothing after you.
You were all
And now you're gone.
The void you left behind,
So enticing, drawing me in
But I have to resist.
There's more to live for,
There has to be more.
Oh, but there isn't.
You were the end,
The finale,
Taking with you all the world.
Your big finish came a little too soon.
And now here I am,
Desolate.
I trusted everything to you.
My joys,
My fears,
My laughter,
My tears.
My identity.
Now you've gone
And taken me with you,
Only you made a mistake,
Your first and last:
You left a part of me behind.
For that,
I love you,
I hate you,
And I let you go.  
:thumb14708050:   :thumb65514026:
:thumb81093428: Two Paths 1: the TestShe dips her hands into the cool water, and draws it from the basin to her face. Above, the alabaster statue of Cydre the Weeping Mother looks down upon her. She searches the sculpted eyes for a sign of approval, of direction. She finds only sadness and strength there, the dual nature of the Church that she serves. That they all serve.
The dream had come again, during the night. Always the claws, tearing her skin. Always the tongues, unwelcome, exploring. Always the voices, growls, laughter without mirth or mercy. The cool water eases her trembling somewhat, although no one is there to witness it, save the carved likeness of Cydre, and her own reflection in the rippling water.
The dream is not hers alone, nor unique to her sleepless nights. She knows that the voices and the claws and tongues are reaching from a world of nightmare, against which all mortals struggle. It was beaten back once, this dread, yet it claws still at the threshold between the worlds of men and of darkness. They
The City of AngelsThe sun sets on clouds
Moving backwards.
Backwards and back in time.
Forming a floating landscape
Of cotton wool and fairy-floss.
Clouds look solid.
Like a second civilization,
With mountains, valleys and plains
Purer than any snowfall.
From this far up
The world seems so surreal,
And I almost expect
To see an angel float by.
But the sky is all but empty,
The clouds, eerily silent.
Like a kind of ghostly heaven
Casting shadows on the earth.
Crossing an invisible line
That criss-crosses the ocean floor,
Seems amusing.
For suddenly I’m a time traveler
Without moving from my seat.
Out the window, a glittering sun
Sinks through the layer of cloud.
Shining shades of pink and orange
On the land of invisible angels.
The very last glow
Of that peculiar pink orb
Sinks and is quickly smothered,
By hungry storm clouds
And starving sea.
A darkening strip appears,
Of red and burning orange.
Like the rim of a giant saucepan
Licked by fire from below.
Then the world becomes dark blue,
With that
:thumb77369581:
:thumb77928762: :thumb82786807:
Polly
Polly was quite an unusual girl,
With a pretty pink dress and her hair up in curls,
It was not the attire that made her seem odd,
But how she decapitated everyone she saw.
It began when she went to the woods with her dad,
Where her story would take its first turn for the sad,
She was helping chop wood but she missed and instead,
Polly lopped off her darling-dear-doomed-daddy's head.
With the axe in her hands and surprise in her eyes,
Polly fell to the ground and proceeded to cry,
But the light from the sun fell right into their path,
And the look on his face made poor sad Polly laugh.
So she hatched an idea in the woods on that day,
One that would make her laugh and send her tears away,
And she picked up her axe through the forest it fell,
Sending cute woodland critters to heaven and hell.
When the forest was empty and did not make a sound,
Polly took her new game and then played it in town,
With a chaotic gleam shining bright in her eyes,
She was suddenly in charge of who lived and wh    On His CreationI did that which was never told,
To make a globe of sparkling gold,
Where earth and water meet as one,
Underneath a burning sun.
Early days tumultuous were,
Molten rock did ravage her,
Yet ages past and time dispense,
Replaced by natures elements.
Races grew and races fell,
Which prevailed, just time would tell,
And as a victor showed it's face,
I christened Gaia as his place.
Evolution was the way,
As man progressed all through the day,
But as the man learnt how to make,
The earth, beneath his feet, did shake.
This foreign wind blew through my land,
As tools were passed from hand to hand,
Yet some remained, no saviours be,
This is the true humanity.
So dark days followed through the breeze,
As blades of steel cut down the trees,
For watching this I slowly weep,
And fall into eternal sleep.
   RenditionI have upwards of 27 compositions.
Quite a few are of typical teenage transitions.
The rest are forelorn renditions
of young love and masturbations.
I talk about alcoholism,
beating the pain into submission,
that one girl I had infatuation
for before she betrayed me like Judas Iscariot.
Am I hoping to change your opinion?
What artist doesn't want appreciation?
I want to break tradition,
blaze a new trail with a unique creation.
Or, I could be condemning my depictions.
My yearn to be atypical could have disastrous consequences,
landing me with all the other non-original masses
who pride themselves on "free thinking revelations."
Is this my hard worked for acquisition?
Might I as well slave away over fleshly sin?
If I sound like all the rest in the end,
then why bother writing this piece of self-expression?
But, no. I know at least one who appreciates with selflessness.
She asked herself if I was deep the very night we shared shattered existences.
If no one else gives attention,
I still The Bigger PictureI want to see the bigger picture.
I want to walk among the clouds and
dance along the milky way.
I want to have tea with God and
revel on Mount Olympus.
I want to see the bigger picture.
I want to sit under a great Redwood and
have a picnic on the plains of Africa.
I want to play in the virgin snow of the Himalayas and
soak up the sun on a deserted shimmering island.
I want to see the bigger picture.
I want to swim along in the waves with the dolphins and
roll in the current with a Dugong.
I want to frolic with the Clownfish and
sing a sad song with the Southern Right Whale.
I want to see
the Sky
the Earth
and the Sea.
A Night with an AngelIt is hard for me say the exact moment when my heart; knew it would do anything for you.
But I do know that on that first night I felt the love of an angel that came from you.
Was it that night when in your eyes, I saw an angels light shine so true.
Looking at you on that night my senses, went numb as you smiled.
That first time you held my hand, resting your head on my shoulder as we left my heart skipped a beat.
Was it that moment this crime was committed; was in that moment when my heart became a victim to a crime of theft?
On that night as we went to hear music and dance; I could not help but to stare, as I hung on every word you said.
You were nervous to meet my friends, but I assured you that you would be welcomed by all.
With you standing by my side, I walked proud and tall,
Knowing I had you by my side.
Could it have been when we stepped out to smoke, and you grabbed me holding me in your angelic arms?
I knew in that moment I would protect you from all harms.
Yes on that Septem A Melody Welcome and FarewellDisclaimer - Usual thing this song belongs to me so no stealing
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
A Melody to Bid You Welcome and Farewell
(Music starts with a Ocarina sound and drums playing with a fadeing in effect)
Verse 1 ("Hello", "My friend", "Stay" and "Awhile" are sang with the single note of Ocarina but the rest of the is sang soothingly along with Ocarina playing)
Hello, my friend, glad to see your home again
To see you well is another weight off our hearts
Stay awhile, you must enjoy the company
Of those from child hood days
Verse 2 ("This", "Sentiment", "Promise me" and "Promise all" is sang the same as the specified words in Verse 1 and is sang like in the last verse)
This sentiment, is for you our long lost
Friend, child and lover
Promise me, promise all, to never say
Goodbye and good night evermore
Bridge (One of the guitars play here along with ocarina and drums and is sang lou
:thumb82678773: Ocean BreezesPeople say that home’s where your heart is,
But mine isn’t here.
Mine’s thousand of miles away.
Where the ocean breaks upon the bay.
Where seagulls sing praises to their Creator,
And salty sea breezes carry sounds of far off places.
Chorus
Oh how the ocean blue calls to me!
How I wish I was at sea!
Feeling the waters at my heels.
And smell the fragrant ocean breeze.
She calls to me from the depths of my soul.
Awakening my aching heart once more.
Opening the door to long ago,
Where warm sands await me,
But right now all I have is cold floor.
Chorus
Oh how the ocean blue calls to me!
How I wish I was at sea!
Feeling the waters at my heels.
And smell the fragrant ocean breeze.
Oh please! Don’t shut the door!
To the place I lived so long ago.
Where God made me and bathed me in the shore.
How I wish once more to go back again.
Make amends and live forever more.
Chorus
Oh how the ocean blue calls to me!
How I wish I was at sea!
Feeling the waters at m
Tainted Sunshine: Chapter OneSilence violently pounded the air with its hushed drums of tranquility. Gentle gusts of air filled with the odor of sacrifice and useless mortality, swept across the grassy plain. Corpses decorated the ground, with tiny milk white flowers encircling their bodies.
With garnet drenched ankles she sank to her knees, trembling. Her silvery dress became blotched with the blood around her. She wept bitterly in hands that matched the shoulders of a sunset; tears mixed with blood as she crept into herself: What have I done?
The words stung her soul, causing her to flinch at invisible hands that strangled her with those violent half-memories. Her body and heart heaved heavily at the gruesome carnage that littered the once carefree meadow. While the wind twisted her wispy fingers through the battle scared banners and the loose strands of hair on dead warriors.
The crows screamed bitter cries over their spoiled food as she sat somberly amongst the fallen. Her pale blue eyes begged for forg Dear John,By now, I've
Realized that
All your flaunted
Intellect may
Never find the
Solution for my emptiness.
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Enter the chat room here: :#writersmeow:

Hey guys, Deep-Emerald here. Something quite exciting has just occurred within the club. The club chatroom (originally created by one of our loyal members, garfinkel) has been revamped over the last couple of weeks and is now officially reopened. This means we have a new, specific place where online members can discuss books, contests, writing techniques, exciting news and happenings on dA, as well as share their work and the works of others, and most importantly, read, review and critique. However, that’s not all.

Over the next number of months, you will all have the chance to win prizes through participating in the chatroom. Prizes will be awarded to members that I see are particularly active; however, the main way to win is as follows. For one (previously designated) hour a week, I will be signed into the chatroom in the club account. The first three members to “meow” at me will be awarded a prize.

Q. What exactly does this entail? Can you please clarify?
Firstly, you will need to join the chat (by simply following this hyperlink above). Then, if you see TheWritersMeow signed in (all deviants signed into a chat are shown on the right) you will need to type /me meows at TheWritersMeow and hit enter. Once you have done this, I will reply to you telling you that you have won a prize, which you will receive within the week.

Q. What prizes are available to be won?
There will be a surplus of journal features and specialized critiques available. There will also, on occasion, be subscriptions, prints and wishlist items awarded and paid for, so make sure you keep and eye out. Additional prize donations are greatly appreciated (Note Deep-Emerald if you’d like to donate).

Q. When will you be signed into the chat?
I will be signed into the club account in the chat for a different hour every week. This time will vary greatly (meaning people from other parts of the world will have just as much chance). For those that particularly like a good puzzle, a literary clue will be given each week as to what hour that week will be.

Q. Anything else I need to know about the chat?
Everyone, with the exception of club admin, will originally be signed in as guests. I will be signed in as my own account (Deep-Emerald) as often as possible and will be promoting members that chat with me to the “MeowMembers” group (once I have checked that you are indeed a club member). Feel free to ask me for any help or critique on your writing, as well as any questions about the club, at any time.



Prizes this week: First three to catch the club account will win a feature of one work each Deep-Emerald’s journal.
Literary Clue: The chosen hour this week is Mercury’s Mirabilis (PM)*

_{*All clues refer to GMT +10:00, which is the timezone in which I personally live. Sorry for the inconvenience.}            

                                                
*Writing tips, publishing information, and promotion ideas
from Spunk On A Stick! *
For daily tips, visit her blog: circleoffriendsbooks.blogspot.…

Networking!

You have dreams of accomplishing great things with your writing!

Are you networking now?

You need to be networking online and in the real world.

Attend writer's conferences.  Be active in the blogging community.  Get involved with forums.  Become familiar with your local newspaper and other media's personnel.  Visit sites that your target audience frequents.  Join a Toastmasters.  

Lay the groundwork long before your first published book and you will reap the rewards!