#decemberwriting
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
atruebloodwrites ¡ 3 years ago
Photo
Tumblr media
Jumping into #writerfriendschallenge for December a little late, but I love this prompt. From the moment I told my immediate family that I was working on a book, they were incredibly supportive. I know that is not the case for many people, and I do feel blessed that no one said to me that it was a pipe dream or a wish that was unattainable. Still, with the truth revealed to them it felt like now I had to do something with that dream. Work hard to make it a reality. At times, I’ll admit, I really wanted to give up, but what kept me going was the knowledge that my family had my back and I didn’t want to disappoint them. It’s that drive that’s seen me through hundreds of rejections and many close calls. It seems like this time of year causes us all to reflect on what we are grateful for. In my life I try to always be mindful of how lucky I am to be supported even when things are not going my way. #Decemberwriting #decemberinspiration #writinglife #writingmotivation #decemberreflection #writersofig #writerssupportingwriters #authorlife #authorsofig #authorsofinsta #igauthor #decemberwritingchallenge #winterwritingchallenge #authorchallenge2021 #writerchallenge2021 #writingprompts #writerfriends #authorssupportingauthors #storytelling #storyteller #fictionwriter https://www.instagram.com/p/CXEYXFzJDuO/?utm_medium=tumblr
0 notes
literary-lioness ¡ 7 years ago
Photo
Tumblr media
For December we will be doing a writing Challenge based on the month of December. Since we are already on the 4th I will be skipping down to the fourth question and starting there. Writing post to come later today!
4 notes ¡ View notes
blkgirlswriting-blog ¡ 7 years ago
Text
Vice Versa pt. 2
Tumblr media
“We are here to celebrate Reta and her transition into a new stage of life,” Jabi, the counsel leader boomed to the clave. All members were in attendance for this ceremony, seated at different tables listening to their leader. The clave had spent several days preparing the ceremony at the center of their land, creating long tables to seat every member of the community.
His voice was strong and steady, as it had always been. He came from a long line of leaders, both men and women, His family had lead the Alema clave since its beginning. His destiny had always been to lead Alema: similarly, Reta’s destiny had been to follow in her own family’s footsteps and continue Alema’s long line of god speakers. However, destiny wasn’t always interested in being predictable.
“Although Alema is a small clave, we care for our own. We protect and defend our people without the resources towns, protected by Otemi, have. Alema has withstood many changes to this world. We have witnessed and survived natural and unnatural shifts that have threatened our livelihood. We still stand here on this land, strong as one. And as one, we will yet again have to defend ourselves against changes that are forced upon us.”
The clave was captivated by Jabi, their silence amplifing his voice. No eyes strayed from his dark brown face, and all attention was his. His presence had always been powerful, even in the stories of his childhood Jabi could influence anyone. Growing up, he could persuade adults to believe he was innocent in his most guilty moments. However, his brilliance was lost on Reta. As she sat at the giant oak ceremony table with him and the rest of the counsel, she could see the truth as bright as the lanterns strung around them. She’d been like everyone else, thinking Jabi could persuade anyone and could even move mountains for Alema. But he could do none of that, he was a regular man, powerful at a young age, but powerless against Otemi. Like every other person in the nation.
“We have been strong armed into giving up a member of Alema to Tiborn, to their god. But we know who he is. We have not forgotten that Otemi was not always the king of the skies. And as Tiborn and other towns sing of Otemi, we will sing of the gods before him. The rightful gods.” Jabi’s voice rose, his feelings towards Tiborn clear with each word.
“We will continue to worship who we know to be the true rulers. And They will watch over Reta and protect her from whatever he plans.” At this Jabi looked to Reta and smiled, triumph written over his face.
All of Alema cheered. They cheered for themselves, for Jabi, and for Reta. She wasn’t sure why they were cheering when she was the one being sacrificed, but she smiled and clapped along anyway. Jabi had transformed their weakness into a strength, he’d convinced Alema to forget their powerlessness and continue even if Tiborn did have a boot raise ready to crush the small existence of Alema. She looked over the people she’d known all her life and felt true pity, Alema wouldn’t last much longer. No clave this delusional could survive His conquest much longer. The history, the culture, the people, all would be gone. It was only a matter of time.
Hours into the beginning of the ceremony, the clave was celebrating with drink and dance to honor the life of the last “daughter of the god speakers”. Despite herself, Reta managed to celebrate with her clave. Dancing until her feet hurt, and drinking until her thoughts blurred. It was easier to drink than sort out her conflicting emotions. While getting another cup, Reta wondered if the towns as big as Tiborn mourned the dead like her people did. Did Otemi ask for his followers to mourn those he took? Did he ensure there were people in those big towns that remembered the names of those he snatched away? The thought barreled down to the anger she’d been hiding all day. It had been churning all day, waiting to be unleashed at any moment. Reta had to concentrate for a long while to push the anger back down. She couldn’t let it out at that moment, she didn’t know what she would do once it blinded her. She thought of where she would be the weeks after she was given away. For all she knew she would be living in Tiborn as some sort of sacred being. Death didn’t have to be the outcome. But she would no longer be in Alema. She would no longer be connected to the gods. She would no longer be Reta of Alema, the god speaker. She would be no one.
She took a sip from her cup at the thought. If she drank more, she wouldn’t be able to think. Her anger could be forgotten if she couldn’t think. So she hastily drank the liquid in her cup.  The spiked juice burned a path from her throat to her stomach, she thought about the warmth coming over her body instead of what would become of her body soon. Reta smiled, she’d been hesitant to drink that night. Knowing how her people behaved when they drank in sadness, someone had to stay sober to prevent any harm from happening. And worse, she had been so close to her anger for so long, she wasn’t sure if it would show up on her last night home. But this was her night, everything was to honor her. Why wouldn’t she drink? With that in mind she threw the cup behind her and headed to continue dancing.
Sometime into the late night, after several hours of dancing and drinking, Reta could barely stay on her feet. With her thoughts scattered and far away from her mind, she had the freedom to enjoy herself, a luxury she rarely had. She sat at one of the large tables and watched her people dance and celebrate, the rich burgundy of their mourning attire illuminated by the fire they danced around.
“You know, I saw mama today during the celebration. It was while they were all walking me over here in the parade. I was surprised.” Reta said to the woman and man she felt walk up behind her.
“Lehana would never miss this. It was too important,” Ame, her Aunt said placing a hand on Reta’s shoulder. She had been one of the main organizers of the ceremony. As one of the council members, she’d done a lot to make sure her niece was honored properly.
“She didn’t stay for long though. I looked away for a second and she was gone.”
“She’s been busy with the gods today, it took a lot out of her to come when she did, her brother replied sitting next to her. “Let’s go home and see her. She wants to spend as much time with you as she can before they come tomorrow.”
“I want to stay and watch,” Reta said not taking her eyes off the dancers. “This is the last night I have. Let me enjoy it for as long as I can.”
“I don’t think any of this is worth remembering. All they’ll do is drink, eat, and dance until they drop. Once you’re gone they’ll go on about their lives like nothing has changed.” Kendi never cared for Alema’s mourning ceremonies. Although he had only been alive for 30 years, his soul was much older and he was drawn to the ancient ways of worship and celebration. “They disrespect your memory the way they give themselves so easily to alcohol and sadness,” he said, contempt thick in his voice.
“But they still care. I can feel it around me. The bonds I have with these people won’t fade as easily as you think, Kendi. They’ll remember me. They’ll think of me when I am gone. Perhaps they’ll even name a child or two after me,” Reta said with a drunken giggle. “Maybe that way I won’t be forgotten.”
A strong breeze blew through, nearly extinguishing the lanterns. The music quieted for a second as people protected themselves from the wind. Once it ceased and everyone had collected themselves, the music and dancing resumed.
“We need to get you home. A lot is happening in the morning and you need to have enough sleep to get through the journey. Come on,” her aunt said tightly gripping Reta’s shoulder.
“Can I get just one more drink? I need this feeling to last into tomorrow,” Reta replied as she stood. She couldn’t sense the unease shared between her aunt and brother.
“I don’t think another drink will do anything but make you feel worse in the morning,” Kendi said as he steadied his intoxicated sister. “But I can give you something that tastes even better.” He left her for a moment to retrieve a cup, and when he returned he reached into a satchel she hadn’t know he had around him. From the satchel, he pulled out a small canister. From that he poured her another drink. “I went through a lot to get this, so don’t waste a single drop.” He said handing her the cup.
“What is it,” Reta asked as she smelled the liquid. A subtle sweet aroma rose to her nose, but burned the more she inhaled. “Why are you giving me the gods’ elixir? No matter how much I take they refuse to talk to me.”
“It’s something better than what you usually take. Mama made it especially for you tonight?”
“Did she now? How kind of her, she wants me to speak to the gods before one of their own spirits me away. What a great conversation we’ll have,” she said before drinking the contents of the cup quickly. She didn’t see the horror and sadness wash over her aunt and brother’s faces.
“Let’s start heading home then,” Ame said turning to lead the way. “We have a little ways to go.” Reta and Kendi lived with their mother on the outskirts of the clave, it was easier to exist and practice when they were far from other people. It took a lot to communicate to the gods, and the noises and needs of the people of Alema were constant distractions. After Lehana conceived Reta, the pressure of the people of Alema was too much for her. She’d become more connected to the gods with each child and could barely stay around other people form more than a few hours. Once she was sure Reta had established friendships with other children in Alema, she moved the family to the edge of the clave where the forest grew freely and she could hear nothing but the gods and nature.
The three walked slowly through the clave, matching Reta’s drunken pace. The moon was high enough to light their path, but clouds leisurely moved over it, shrouding them in darkness. However, the trio knew their way without much thought and kept to their slow walk home. They passed small groups walking from the celebration sluggishly to their homes, unable to continue into the morning.
“You know what I’ll miss most about being in Alema?” Reta said suddenly, turning to Ame and Kendi.
“What?” Kendi asked humoring her.
“I’ll miss the stories of the gods. There were a lot of stories I learned because our family has known them for ages, but there were so many more I learned from Alema. There are so many more I don’t know,” she said with regret.
“How about we tell you a few on our way home?” Her brother asked throwing his arm around her shoulder. “We can start with the story of the goddess Tefa.” She didn’t see the anger in his eyes, nor could she feel how that anger send a tremor through him. Kendi hid a lot from her that night. They all had.
5 notes ¡ View notes
adifferentkindofgrace ¡ 7 years ago
Text
I am not a religious individual. This does not mean I can not celebrate.
Christmas was a fair time in my memories. There was always such joy in bullying my sisters for control of the movies, arranging the Christmas decorations, and indulging in ridiculous amounts of sweets. As I grew up and away from religion, I entered a time where I was rejecting the holidays for the religious attachments I saw. I fought to separate myself. Ignore family. Forget this. It is dumb. It…
View On WordPress
0 notes
tk-wheregenrescollide ¡ 6 years ago
Text
The Lights ~ #poetry #DecemberWriting
via The Lights ~ #poetry #DecemberWriting
View On WordPress
0 notes
awesomerebeccacutlerthings ¡ 7 years ago
Text
Miles of Gold - #poetry #DecemberWriting
Miles of Gold – #poetry #DecemberWriting
Please join me in reading this piece by Dorinda Duclos. It will certainly warm you up during this bitterly cold winter. 🙂
View On WordPress
0 notes
pressedflowersss ¡ 10 years ago
Quote
I should of known you were bad from the start. You never kissed my hand or asked how I was, not once did you want to hear about my childhood, and why I still cried over my ex, or had his name engraved in my thigh. It stupidly took me several months to notice this. I'm not sure what kept me so blinded, maybe it was the July sun, or maybe your cold blue eyes.
regre t . (pressedflowersss)
4 notes ¡ View notes
literary-lioness ¡ 7 years ago
Text
December Writing 4
Topic: What do you struggle with during the holidays?
My wife and I splitting our Christmas between two families while desperately trying to establish our own traditions.
1 note ¡ View note
literary-lioness ¡ 7 years ago
Text
December Writing 3
Topic: What Feels Christmasy to you?
A list of things that feel Christmasy:
1. Eggnog
2. Fresh Balsam Bath and Body Works Candles
3. Cold Weather ☃️
4. Snow ❄️
5. Lights on Houses
6. Fresh baked breads and cookies🍪
7. The end of first semester
8. Decorated Pine Trees 🎄
9. Warm Drinks ☕️
10. Jingling Sweaters
1 note ¡ View note
blkgirlswriting-blog ¡ 8 years ago
Text
Vice Versa pt.1
Tumblr media
Screaming woke Reta from a deep, uncomfortable sleep. She looked around frantically, searching for solace in something familiar. But her surroundings were far from soothing. The room was not her own, it was bare and small. The walls were grey and tall, closing in on her, ready to crush her like the children in Alema squished the ripe guana fruit.
It took her several moments to realize the screaming was coming from her and that she could stop. So she covered her mouth with her hands to silence herself. She’d dreamt of something, something she couldn’t quite remember. But when she thought of it, her chest contracted and she almost started to scream again. It was easy to do that. Screaming was better than thinking, thinking only caused her pain.
“Have you finished?”
There was a woman in the far corner of the room, watching her. How long had she been there? A chill went up Reta’s spine and she couldn’t distinguish whether it had come from the breeze that wafted through the room or the realization that she and the woman were locked in the room together.
Briefly she wondered why she thought she was locked in, but the thought left her mind as quickly as it appeared. On the floor, she turned to the source of the breeze coming from behind her. Its origins were from a window big enough for her to see the vastness of the city outside, but the bars on it reminded her of captivity and smallness. She walked to the window, intrigued and perplexed by the view. Ivory buildings stood tall and straight, while smaller reddish brick buildings speckled the city in larger numbers. There were far more people than Reta could dream of counting, all tiny specks from how high she was. In the far distance, where the most people were headed, there was a statue made of the same ivory with additional gold linings. She knew this statue, even though she had never seen one so large before, there’d been one in the town near her clave. A statue so big could only mean she was in one place. Tiborn, the Gods’ City.
“Otemi in all his glory. I doubt statues that grand existed before he took over,” the woman said next to Reta.
Reta flinched and got to her feet to quickly step away from her. She eyed the woman fully this time. The woman’s deep brown, almost blue, skin glistened as the rays of sun coming through the window illuminated her. She glowed in elegance from the kinky halo of hair on her head, down to the gold rings wrapped around the toes of her bare feet. On her body were clothes unfamiliar to Reta, with a style that looked nothing like anything current. A large vibrant yellow sash covered her chest, with more fabric billowing down her body to form a skirt that stopped under her knees. The woman had an old air to her, even though she looked to be in her mid-twenties like Reta.
“Who are you?” Reta rasped finally. Her throat was raw from the screaming.
“Oh, you do speak? I was worried that you would be mute up until the very end. Or worse, you’d scream the whole time. I was growing tired of all that noise you were making,” the woman said as she leaned against the wall. Reta was thankful she’d kept her distance.
“You didn’t answer my question. Who are you and why am I here?” Reta asked with more confidence.
“I can’t say, you have to figure that out on your own. I am here because of your mother. She called to me and asked for me to help you. Most humans have heard of what he does to the sweet little flowers he plucks from the ground. She wanted you to have protection. As of now I’m the only one that does not fear him,” the woman said looking out of the window. Reta couldn’t read the expression on her face. Did she even wanted to know what the woman was thinking?
“You aren’t making any sense. Why would my mother call on a goddess to protect me? Who is this person you’re talking about?”
The woman walked to her, and as a reflex Reta stepped away until her back touched wall. The woman stopped several feet from her. Reta had come from tall people and had inherited the height from them, but the woman towered over her. “Don’t ask me such foolish questions. You know the answers to all of them. You simply don’t want to think of them. Human minds are too damn fragile. Think harder.”
Reta did as she was told, she thought of why she was in Tiborn. Why would she be so far from home? Why would they keep her so far from other people? Why was there a celebration? She could feel the answers deep within her, behind the pain she felt earlier. The only time anyone came to Tiborn, was for a reason. No one was simply allowed into the city without documents saying why they were there. If not that, they were coming to Tiborn to give their lives to Him, their one true god. Otemi.
Then something came to her. A document, sent to her home personally by a special Tibornian military leader. Her mother, a pillar of Alema, with strength unmatched, was on her knees sobbing. It had been the first time she’d seen her mother openly cry.
And suddenly Reta wanted to scream again. She could remember now. The clave on fire, the death of her people, the life lost that night. Her mother kneeling, tears streaming down her cheeks, yet a smile stretched across her face. Reta had to hold back the onslaught of emotions that washed over her as the memories came back.
“No! Let it out. The quicker you do that the easier it will be to accept it all,” the woman said stepping closer to Reta. “Remember it all. Hold onto the memory of them cutting down your people. It’ll be the only thing to give you the strength to do the same to them.”
Reta tried to swallow the pain, send it through her to be digested and released. That was the more peaceful approach. But all of her complicated emotions were overflowing, and the only way for her to not fall apart, was to let it out. So she screamed and screamed and screamed. She let out her pain, anger, and sadness in the only way she knew how.
When she came back to herself, her throat was on fire, her voice was all but nonexistent, but there was a clarity to her thoughts now. Tiborn wanted to give her to Otemi. And she wouldn’t let that happen, not after what they’d done to her home. And under His order no less. Her emotions were morphing into a weapon, something she could use to save herself from succumbing to the same fate of her people and the people before them.
She looked at the woman, the only being that could help her use her weapon against Tiborn.
“Do you know who I am now?” The woman asked. She’d waited through Reta’s screaming and processing, and now she was ready to plan.
“How will you help me?” Reta asked the woman with suspicion. There was always a price when you asked for help from a god.
“I am powerless until you identify who I am.”
“I know that, but before I give you power, I want to know what you plan to do.”
“You are your mother’s child,” the woman said with a smirk. Reta flinched at the mention of her mother, the wound was still fresh.
“I plan to kill the god you silly humans worship.”
10 notes ¡ View notes
adifferentkindofgrace ¡ 7 years ago
Text
Nothing but ice. Nothing to recollect. Worthless, the sacrifice. Lost, the disrespect.
View On WordPress
0 notes
tk-wheregenrescollide ¡ 6 years ago
Text
Shattered State ~ #poetry #DecemberWriting
via Shattered State ~ #poetry #DecemberWriting
View On WordPress
0 notes
tk-wheregenrescollide ¡ 6 years ago
Text
No Other Choice ~ #poetry #DecemberWriting
via No Other Choice ~ #poetry #DecemberWriting
View On WordPress
0 notes