Wednesday, August 21, 2013

I Wrote Fiction. On Creative Writing

When I hear about creative writing, I feel as though lighting had struck and stones would turn into toads or diamonds, just like the fairy tale I read when I was youngest.

Creative writing is sort of happy-ending fairy tales and sad fiction stories.  It triggers blood out of flesh and broken bones.

Of course, the mechanics of writing can be taught, but creating something is another story. You cannot teach someone how to be an artist, but you can always help someone write better.

What is Creative Writing?

From an ordinary writer's point of view - creative writing is the art of writing embodied in various genres of literature: poems, fiction and nonfiction, among others.

It deals with writing and more than just writing, because it is creating something beautiful. It is more than just words, but using correct metaphors, nurturing a style; and maybe... the urge of a writing vocation that assumes hard labor. Money? Never.

Many writers aspire to be creative writers and we don't know if we are one. Time will judge. And maybe, some mark in the core of the writer's being and an endowment can answer for that.

"An odd feeling," other writers say.

You cannot boast "Hey, I'm a creative writer!" Other writers will surely laugh at you because the term itself connotes pride. If others will say "He/She is a creative writer," be thankful then. But try not to say, "I am a creative writer." However, you may say "I'm into creative writing." This can be an attempt and can give some confidence.

Try to ask a poet how he/she writes.

Ask a fiction story writer how he creates his characters.

Ask a dramatist.

Ask a feature writer (creative nonfiction with a sense of style, etc.).

Or read the scribble of someone who did not study writing, but can express words in paper; beautifully; after a series of attempts.

Paul Horgan says in his book Approaches to Writing, "Some masterpieces are born of observations; others of intuition. The first will ordinarily tell about the author; the second, about everyone else."

Creative Writing is a task of life and more than just writing. It must embody learning logs and give the readers value for their reading time, at least some kind of pleasure, meekness or motivation.

Paul Horgan adds "We begin to create when we see everyone else in ourselves."

"In writing, there are two levels of professionalism: one the lower - is based on ambition driven by competitiveness; the other is based solely on fulfilling a vision in word and overall design, without regard to what anyone else is writing or publishing."

/rosevoc on august 22.2013

I Wrote Fiction and Poems! A blessed Thursday!

Sunday, August 4, 2013


Dare me to love you, in the spaces of my imagination where there is no reality.  

Dare me to sleep with you and chain me to your heart. 

Dare me to seek out adventures of life where our mouths suck each other’s tongue. 

Seize me not to think, but only love you.  

I will let you touch me now.  

All those years we've grappled to remain pure.  

The flesh grows old, but then blood would always be clean in a spectrum of rainbows.  

Your colors are elegant to me.  

Your vivid sense of loyalty and stand illuminates salvation.

Our houses keep me.  

They make me strong as a bull, but scared as a baby when you go.  

When would you come back?  

When would you sing out your heart?  

When would we read again, then stop and kiss?

Our emotions will not furrow, I tell you not.  

I would not allow it.  

God has built you an android beating.  

I live from time to time, newly created. 

My poems forever will speak of zeal. 

It is meant for you. 

Dare me again.  

Be with me on the subway, in the library, in the park or kneel with me side by side.  

Dare me to love you.  

Seize me not to think, but only love you. 

I will stay.  

I promise.

Rosevoc2. rosevocations. july5, 2013

Thursday, August 1, 2013

A core in a crust!

I plunged my fears and swam across depths of time and space.

First time.

I would taste the pleasure of emotions in words.

It was a trance.

A temporary exit to the power-playing people around me in the real-now.

I began to find the answers to my complicated ideas, deconstructing and reconstructing every word; trying to separate water and oil.

I would like to think, there is a knife on my neck and every wrong move I make would slit a cut on my throbbing throat like killing a helpless chicken.

Maybe, I can become what I dream now.

In this development of technology, words and letters are like people talking to me face to face.



This is an exerpt from my fiction story "Net Chat," on

The internet birthed with me, we lived together and collaborate; the World Wide Web.

Seriously, I always tell myself, I am an android built with a heart. The other me.  It is happy and sad.  But it has to be like this for me as a writer.

Once, one of my professors told me (way back my MFA days), "Always let go when you write."

I said, "No, I won't.  It is scary."

Dr. Marj Evasco, "Why?"

"I may not be able to come back," I answered.

It was a sincere conversation.  

I thank GOD for these moments.

/rosevoc2 on

Hansel and Gretel9