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Showing posts from January, 2013

HOW TO PICK A TOPIC FOR CREATIVE WRITING

How To Pick A Topic for Creative Writing By Rosalinda Flores-Martinez Being creative is a gift to all. You have to feel in what aspect you could be special and doing it with fun. A creative topic for an essay is just writing something special or unique. Of course, there are literary canons, and Shakespeare, and James Joyce, and more, but then, you have to find your own voice. Don't fake it or be clich├ęd. Everyday events can help, and the more it comes original, the better.

Creative Writing is never easy. It will mangle your brain and cut your heart piece by piece. Creative writers, wouldn't announce that laurel on their heads because can you imagine what kind of person is the one who hallucinates, make-up stories, and talk in paper? That is half-awake and half-dreaming, and besides writing is subjective.

Sometimes writing is a thankless job, too, however noble. But then again, no one can stop the creative writer, he/she will write, and no one can stop him at a gun point or lac…

Iwrotefiction:rosevoc2

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GETTING WATER

January 26, 2013
GETTING WATER (For A Maid)
It was an experiment of a well where you get water, pail by pail or drop by drop Rain fills that well, dug, layers down So she and I would scoop our pails, carry them meters’ going back house. The pail was not heavy for us, for we were both young and arduous. We filled drums, as saving water for our home It was easy, yet her hands mottled red while she gripped the sleek handle, carrying on a task to please me - my eyes swelled of her devotion… I said to myself, “My hands must never be tired. They must carry more than her hands.” Perhaps, seven times her courage - I am sorry, for what they did. I am sorry, for what I did not do. Thank you for getting water for us.

/rosalinda flores martniez

LET US WRITE AND TELL STORIES

Let us write and tell stories. Her are words that matter in fiction stories. Know the vocabulary and try a short fiction story.

The short story is a fiction story.

Normally the short story is between 1000-5000 words. A selling length is 3000 words. It is concerned with a single episode only. There must be brevity of time, characters, description, characterization, dialogue, incident, yet its content must be vivid with life.

The short story differs from the "short kiddie story." Its treatment must be intense and characterization should be sharp.

According to Guy De Maupassant, "The serious writer's goal is not only to entertain but to move us, to make us understand the deep and hidden meaning of events."

Here are the elements of a short story:

1. Plot

The plot is a sequence of events. It begins with an exposition, then rising action (dramatization of events), climax (breaks off dramatically at this point), then falling action proceeding to resolution, and then …

TRAIL

Trail
To the library, I go, station by station.  
You,  peak of my dreams.  
Those pigeons come to gather around my terrors, and for a time, say hello, daring on my palm, swift, ascending for a next flight.
I sit in the park, waiting for your call.  My phone is dead, as your voice far and away.
“I’ve tried to hitch, Baby –“   become a flowering shrub like althea – but that isn’t just me; because I rake fire, kneel side by side with the sun or just stay a plain blade of grass.
A monument of mountains, St. Jude in my pouch, that winter, facing all the seasons of the earth, I face empty graves, most beautiful to make love.  I mine every corner of katakana and kanji.
“So where are you?”
Sparkling shops of wedding gowns in front of dull pavements glazed with ice - an elegant silk for a dress razing my guts, a crow burrowing a steeple, posts lighting one by one - 
Wither our promise?
“Never stop,” my footsteps tell me.
“Just don’t  stop…”
Shadows start to peep, night burns the afternoon, sinuous win…

The Mystery of Moths

What is it with moths, insects and flies?

Why in their minute bodies or heads, they threaten humans?

Why in their strangeness, they symbolize wrath, fun, seasons, danger or calm?

I'm fond of fireflies. When I was younger I thought they were sent by fairies from deep dark forests. I asked my grandfather (father of my Dad) when we crossed thick forests in the night, "Are there really fairies in the forest?"

And he answered, "Yes."

I was into it. I adored his stories, even those horses with human heads. Up the sky, we looked, and it was so beautiful! Truly, the sky in blue was vast, the stars brightly smiled to us, and to all those who looked above.

I was not afraid of the forest then. I was thinking, if we didn't find the way out, we would reverse our shirts to find the way out. My grandfather laughed. He was so brave, a real man! Like an Indian chief he can roar with command, and those who would see him would bow with respect.

There were clusters of firefli…

DO NOT WASTE TIME

HOME :: Arts and Entertainment:Movies TV
In Time: Don't Waste My Time By Rosalinda Flores-Martinez
The concept of the movie "In Time" is done with sheer style, updated with today's modern technology.

The idea of codes is dynamic. See how science-fiction opens conduits to discovery and innovation.
Imagine arms with life codes like the candies and stuff you buy from the supermarkets. Imagine your arms scanned to get the things you need. Your payment is the time that's left for you to live by (the time you need to live). Time, as the basic resource is well portrayed in the movie to be so prized, but never paid well for the poor.
Those that control the system can't run anymore, their faces a false sophistication melting like wax.
In another aspect, it shows us thoughts about life, profusely. There is a vivid picture of capitalism, where only a few groups or individuals own lands, businesses, and means of production.
It also shows mayhem by chance in the ghettos, where thos…

On January 9, 2013

I have nothingnew to tell you, except of hopes Hope for children Hope for students Hope for good workers of the Lord I cant come up with any fiction yet, nor poems But only faith- faith and faith in Jesus in all that we do I sometimes hate it, when I could not write. I think I am a barren field with dry leaves broken twigs and dead boars. There is nothing more exciting, than charity and faith And you next to me ... iwrotefiction, rose

The Black Nazarene Listened

The Black Nazarene Listened How did you die? They told us, you were holding the Holy Family, in the gasworks, until you slept peacefully.

In James Joyce "The Dead" I remember the death of Michael Furrey, who worked in the gasworks.

The gasworks and its toiled laborers are unsung heroes - young, daring and honest. They will light a candle for you.

If you were here now, you would be proud of me.
You would see how, you trained one little girl tug ducts of these brave eyes.
Your bloody shirt and the stain, folded with your empty wallet and your Hamilton watch were the last pieces of your relics.

I couldn't forget you were slain, like a lamb, in firing guns.
That bullet near your heart,
Is an earth of grief for me,
A mountain on my mothers back
Drought fields for the young brothers and sister.


In the rosaries of my nights, I lament - every shot when you crawled, and reached for an image of holiness -
And raised it up, like a martyr -
But it was complicated
For a tax man, like Matthew.

Ligh…