#scribomania

[darkphainon]

[Graphomania.]

[viandede-porque]

Virgin fic writers: *use "the older lover", "the blue-eyed one" to keep describing the same character from sentence to sentence*

Slutty Alenichev: Hold my beer!

*uses only the nickname Ilyukha while talking about Tsymbalar*

[definegodliness]

Hi hi. I hope this finds you well. Haha.

Your work is fucking riveting. Just the perfect amount of Perplexing, relatable and You.

I keep wondering, given you mentioned you didn't ever expect or perhaps want, to get into writing how did writing find you and how is your experience. Writing. What does that feel like for you?

And your writing voice. Its so eloquent so... artful..is that something you cultivated or was that simply a natural happening.

Personally I find nyself very disconnected from my work and the experience when i try to actively cultivate or "play around" with technique and prose etc. I naturally have a keeness to word play of sound and feel. Cadence. But the eloquence of your word choice is beauteus. Its something I would love to see in my own work im not quite sure though how to approach that goal whilst staying connected and thoroughly immersed in my experience when writing.

Hello there, Anon,

Thank you for your glowing, upbeat words. They have found me very well today, and I will cherish them. I did not expect to get into writing, because as a young adult my aim was to be successful in a rather narrow- corporate-minded way. I aimed for a job that paid well. So, writing absolutely did not fit my ego-fueled ambitions. A simpleton I was, but fortunately I can blame my inexperience in doing this living thing. I have always been a logophile. A word sponge. I care not for archaism or rarity, what matters is descriptiveness. When I find a word that is oddly particular, specialist, and above all precise, I experience a sense of elation. Even more when I finally get to use such a word. I guess you could say I favor precise communication over clear communication. Ironically, this is instigated by an innate longing to communicate clearly; as to achieve the purest possible connection, with as little as possible noise on the line between sender and receiver.

So, even when I had abandoned my love (for writing) to climb the corporate ladder, she has always kept seducing me, and has always remained part of me. Life, since then, has been slicing away at me. On the one hand, unfortunately, because life would be so much easier if I still had the same ambitions as then, but on the other hand I feel fortunate to have been chipped away, and ongoingly ever closer, to my core-self. Now, I can honestly say The Writer is a core-part. A part of me that blew up when I met my first love.

Without consciously setting out to write poetry, in hindsight, I wrote poem after poem for that girl. Of course, back then, it felt like simply sharing my heart with her. And it was such an overwhelming outpour of love, that, when she was not near, I had to canalize it through writing.

When she shattered my heart, it was very much the same. I developed scribomania, and for years I could not go without writing without suffocating. I always say writing helped me to learn to breathe underwater. However, it was more than catharsis. Prose turned to poetry, and I fell in love with this art form. Aside from getting emotions out, I also soaked in every bit to do with the craft. In that, poetry has given me a sense of purpose. What I love most is that you're never done learning, and therein you are never done evolving as a poet.

Curiosity is key. Reading-wise, when I like a poem, I am always keen to learn the whys. Then, try my hand at it. So I tried a lot of different styles, and when I finally wrote a satisfactory poem in that style, I went back to my own. Still incorporating the things I have learned. I have tried (nigh) every type of fixed verse similarly. Yes, sometimes fixed verse feels mechanical. But when I reread old work I do see my, then subconscious, emotions resurface. It may feel as if you are more disconnected than when writing free verse, but I assure you you are not. The set boundaries of fixed verse should not be seen as shackles, but as a lens; you utilize it to create a focal point.

Still, if you are truly averse to fixed verse, it has been mostly beneficial to me, because counting syllables, utilizing meter, and searching perfect rhymes has often sent me to my thesaurus and dictionary. It helps to hone your inborn skills, like lyricism and cadence. I do think my writing voice is natural, and that any writing voice is — I have never searched for it, doubted, or questioned it — but I also have cultivated it, longing to make it resound as clear as can be.

I think it's great you are confident in your own writing voice. That you know your strengths, and can play around with them. Never let anyone take that away from you. Never be hesitant, worried, or ashamed to write what you feel, need, or just plain simply want to write. Like I said, I love poetry because you can continuously keep evolving, and even if you feel a poem turned out subpar, or bad, or great for you but it turns out nobody else likes it, it is always a step in your evolution. There are many roads that lead to Rome. I now shared a glimpse of my path. But if you stay curious and just keep doing what you love, you will always get where you want to be.

Long answer, but I haven't written for a week, and I guess I am still a bit scribomanic. Your message offered a welcome distraction, and reason to pick up the pen.

For which you have my thanks,

Best wishes,

Mark

[speakvulcantome]

Compare: Dah-linisau

Tcok’at | to compare (source:Marketa), transcribed to Vuhlkansu is either T’tsokat or tsokat. Linisau: to examine, study, analyse, etc. [the Avestan image has been rotated 90 deg counterclockwise for comparison; both use phonetic alphabets]

[carlwilliamsrarebooks]

#antoninartaud demonstrating his #scribomania in a bonkers inscription for Hitler. This book itself in a crazy double pull apart set of matching yellow leather boxes. Played with it often sitting on the floor of #juliomariosantodomingojr 's red room at #promenadesaintantoine #geneve where the book lived with other druggie writers: #williamsburroughs #yageletters #arthurrimbaud #charlesbaudelaire #stanislausdeguaita . Image nicked from @houghtonlib

[vesuviusclass]

Fics

Fitzier

The Devils Before Us - MasterofAllImagination Tis Past and So Am I - glassessay Ugly Words and Pretty Things - Ias Willow Cabin - inasieve Rescue Camp - kiev4am Till Human Voices Wake Us - ktula The Terebus Literary Society Reads Persuasion - Jennytheshipper five centuries of masculine ineptitude - reinetta Goldpoint - kingboooo hunger’s vocabulary - icicaille deep blue and wide open - carnival_papers oh my heart, how can I face you now? - zipegs want you bad - wildcard_47 smoking it open unto its rosey heart - Kt_fairy heart in hand - aes3plex Excerpts from the Lost Journal of Sir James Clark Ross - what_alchemy praised the morning; gloried in the sea - norvegiae Waistcoats! or, Life Before the Passage - sadsparties At Furthest South - sadsparties Days and Nights and Crimson Noons - reserve head over feet - wildcard_47 Da mi basia mille, deinde centum - anactoriatalksback faultless unity - wildcard_47 Worthier than he knows - anactoriatalksback the years wore on and changed my heart - terpsichorian Well I Feel So Broke Up (I Wanna Go Home) - soft_october the concentration of salt in sea ice - snagov A wounded deer leaps highest - anactoriatalksback experience, and its decay - attheborder Magpie to the Morning - soft_october Bloom - mia_ugly in the form of stars - salvage The Passion - snagov a mask of my own face - attheborder five times that francis crozier's proposal was rejected (and one time it wasn't) -djsoliloquy Boil the Ocean - ClutchHedonist An embarrassment of Jameses - anactoriatalksback A Willing Foe and Sea-Room - ClutchHedonist bang it up inside - TomBowline a material thing - wreathed and all the boards did shrink - Kt_fairy A Pair of Finches in a Brass Cage -fiendlikequeen The Terror Triptych - fiendlikequeen The Arctic Flower - fiendlikequeen the body as anagram - snagov

Joplittle

Life in the Silent Spaces - scribomania To Warm the World - onstraysod Written into the Flesh - Dancains Crossed the Ocean On a Sail - onstraysod I knew it was love (and I felt it was glory) - whalersandsailors Slides the Silent Meteor On - onstraysod Would You Gain the Tender Creature - sithmarauder For whoever can break through the ice - lagardère thrust in thy sickle, and reap - snagov only the winds carry me anew - revolutionnaire i've become the person who says darling - vegetas Gen

pot-au-feu - poose

[zipegs]

i’ve been toying around with the idea of posting a fic rec list for a while, and finally decided that if i do, it might be nice to focus on newer and/or underrated fics in the fandom! some of my absolute favorites are on this list, and i highly suggest checking them out (and leaving the lovely authors some comments and kudos!)

this got pretty long, but it’s organized alphabetically by ship name (including gen) and then by length inside each ship!

blanky/little

Trysails by saltstreets  /  2k, t

“I know I can’t do much,” Blanky said, “but you can always talk to me. If you’re so inclined.”

A (very late!) offering for Tender Tuesday, "a friend in need".

okay!!!!!! okay!!!!! hear me out on this one!! this fic is wonderful. i’m a sucker for fics dealing with edward’s suffering during the worst of crozier’s captaincy, and this one is so good. blanky is so wonderful in this; i feel like his tender, kind side frequently gets overlooked in favor of his bigger, bolder attributes, and this fic truly delivers on everything i’ve been missing! it’s really gentle and sweet and i urge you to give it a read!!!!

bridglar

in the low lamplight by stelleri  /  338, g

It’s endless freezing rain outside, but the house is comfortably warm.

short and sweet! a really lovely little slice-of-life modern au

state of grace by aes3plex  /  860, m

He doesn’t mean to see it. He never does.

bridglar may be the most featured pairing, but this is told from irving’s pov and also contains irving/little and references to hickey/gibson. really sad, conflicted little peek into irving’s mind (and some nice, soft bridglar as well!)

passer iagoensis by greenery  /  3k, g

Night falls on the Beagle and Henry Peglar has just finished reading his very first novel.

Set in 1832.

this piece is so good!! it has some really beautiful (sad) foreshadowing of the franklin expedition, and is just... so soft, with some wonderful romantic tension!! and it’s funny! darwin and fitzroy are wonderful in this, and i’m always here for fic that deals with peglar learning to read (which this does!!!).

cracroft/crozier

the beggar’s opera by pyotr  /  990, e

for all of his usual anger and surliness it was almost fun to fluster francis, to rile him where he could not retaliate. sophia had spent all her life under the thumb of some man or another; she loved francis in part because she always had the upper hand.

sophia is my queen and that’s all i’ll say about that. seriously though, this piece is just... *chef’s kiss*

fitzconte

A Cheetah Never Changes His Spots by onstraysod  /  1.2k, m

Being the particular friend of James Fitzjames has its drawbacks, as Henry Le Vesconte learns during the expedition's first carnivale. But it also has its advantages, as Henry learns once the carnivale is over.

Written for Day 1 (A Special Disguise) of the 12 Days of Carnivale.

on beechey island, fitzjames reveals clio’s cheetah to the men. or... something like it! this piece is really a blast; fitzjames is in rare form, francis is glaring form the sidelines, and le vesconte is an absolute champ. and the ending is wonderfully witty and racy!

fitzier

wake me up, wake me up my darling by norvegiae  /  1.4k, g  /  mcd

James Fitzjames feels like a new man.

The old James Fitzjames lies on the cot in front of him, cradled by the man he wishes he could have had more time with.

set during 1.09, this fic is a really poignant, heartwrenching piece in which james comes to terms with the reality of his death, and of his life, as he watches francis grieve. very sad, and wonderfully written!

what the stars give us by WetSammyWinchester  /  1.7k, t  /  implied death

"They may know space, James, but you know what it means to truly fly."

70s scifi (space program!!!) au. really great translation of the terror; the mood in this is so good!!! and the little flashbacks are fantastic. it’s pretty sad, but it hurts in a good way.

fitzrossier

Take Your Turn, Take A Ride by courfairyac  /  7.5k, e

Francis agrees to accompany his friend to a masquerade, and stumbles onto something quite unexpected.

In short: Festivities! Voyeurism! James in a dress!

listen... fitzrossier is my new weakness, and this is a really fun, hot, canon-universe (pre-expedition) au.

gen

salvation by scribomania  /  250, t

The Concordia brings them survival, but not salvation.

featuring hodgson and little, and jopson. for a survival au, this little piece hurts!!! it’s so short, but it packs a punch. really, really good.

but no one remembers yet by disastermovie  / 885, t

“From the mutilated state of many of the corpses and the contents of the kettles, it is evident that our wretched countrymen had been driven to the last resource—cannibalism—as a means of prolonging existence.”

—excerpt from Dr. John Rae’s report on the fate of the Franklin Expedition to the Secretary of the Admiralty (written from Repulse Bay on July 29, 1854)

sad little epilogue concerning sophia and lady jane dealing with their grief

the weary world rejoices by disastermovie  /  1.3k, t

Fitzjames goes to his first Christmas party after the survivors are rescued. It doesn't go well.

this!!!! fic!!! i can’t even do it justice, it’s just so good. the slow build of james’s panic, the caroling and gaiety as a backdrop... it’s just so painful in the best way. i’m incoherent; pls just read it,

la belle dame sans merci by drowninglovers  /  1.7k, g

Nobody is quite sure who the first one to start making her clothing is, but one day she scampers over the shoulders of the ABs as they line up for lunch wearing a tiny shirt to match her pants. It’s nothing special, no fancy detail, navy blue like most everything else they wear. Whoever made it must have cared a great deal, to make sure it fit her perfectly.

this is incredibly fun!!! just some good, wholesome fic about boys dressing up their favorite lady. 10000/10 would recommend.

Come Here, Fellow Servant by whipstitch  /  1.9k, t

The sea is dangerous, but so too is the open sky. And in that case, Cornelius determines, a friend is an unexpected boon.

okay, i made a rule that i wasn’t going to include wips on this rec list,  but i had to put this guy on here. it could be read as a stand-alone, actually, which is what i used to convince myself to include it. peglar realizes that hickey has no fucking idea what he’s doing, and tries to help him, kind, caring sweetheart that he is. this is a really, really nice little piece—i love everything about it.

lie alone by greenery  /  2k, g

He turns the page. And maybe this is it. Maybe writing a letter to young Tom Hartnell is reason enough to leave the berth.

really nice oneshot featuring two good boys (hodgson & hartnell) and their wholesome status as pen pals

the crooked kind by darrenjolras  /  2.3k, m  /  non-consensual voyeurism

“You and I, Jopson,” Hickey says, and Jopson startles at those words alone, turns an affronted gaze his way. Hickey bathes in the glacial blue of it. Like being thrown overboard. “You and I aren’t so different, you know.”

Based on that Hickey/Jopson scene. You know the one.

the terror bingo fill: court martial

not totally gen, but also not really hickey/jopson? twisted, but very much in character; hickey is his delightful self in this, and his verbal sparring with jopson is very well done and quite fun to read!

gibson/hickey

Touch Her Not Scornfully by skazka  /  2k, e

Stolen moments down below.

this fic is just... really fucking good!!! it’s a fantastic look at the very early days of gibson & hickey’s relationship, and an intriguing little venture into billy’s head.

goodsir/mcdonald

And That is How it Starts by Intrepid_Inkweaver  /  1.2k, g

It starts with a handshake and a warm smile at their introduction at Greenhithe.

a really sweet, lovely canon-divergent piece. written in 2nd person pov. these two are just such a good, wholesome pairing and this fic really does them justice!!

hartving

let loss reveal it by disastermovie  /  1.6k, t  /  mcd

Tom could never quite see himself taking a wife.

this shit fucking hurts!!!!!!! it’s a beautiful glimpse at irving & hartnell’s relationship, told through hartnell’s introspection, and is written really, really well. also did i mention that it fucking hurts???

Lookout Blues by ClockworkCourier  /  2.1k, g

John and Tom Hartnell talk about the future while they wait on a new shipment.

hello??? 1920s au??????? the world-building is so tangible in this, even in such a relatively short piece. it’s a really lovely little conversation between the brothers, and i absolutely loved their little discussion of irving.

we’ll tak’ a cup o’ kindness yet by drowninglovers  /  6.3k, g

If this is to be the last time they interact (and it likely will), Tom wants it to be memorable.

survival au survival au!! tartnell runs into irving at john’s grave, and convinces him to stay with his family until new year’s. it’s kind of bittersweet, with some really great flashbacks (and discussions of said scenes!), and oh man is it soft!! just! really beautiful and tender, and the ending is just so cute!!!!!

hodgson/hickey

the chaos moves by itself by bluebacchus  /  1.3k, e  /  violence, mcd

Hodgson's mind cracks and the heavens flow in.

(Written for Day 7 of Halloween TerrorFest: A disquieting metamorphosis and posted separately because I don't want to taint my main post with borderline vore)

fair warning... this fic is fucked up, but in the best possible way! the religious imagery!!!! the philosophy!!!! just!! god.

hodgson/little

Allegro, B Flat Major by whalersandsailors  /  5.3k, g

George is freshly moved from his childhood home, ready to tackle the school year and his newfound independence all at once.

Too bad he's lonely, miserable, and homesick.

He turns to music when adulthood becomes unbearable, and when someone knocks at his door and leaves an anonymous note, George discovers another music lover not too far away.

have i mentioned i love george hodgson? because i love george hodgson. this fic is a beautiful modern au featuring our own georgie playing his way through his feelings (literally). the buildup to the reveal of george’s secret admirer is wonderful, and had me rooting for them from the start! really sweet, stunning fic for a pairing i’d never considered before!

joplittle

get out of the wind by Cicadaemon  /  1.6k, e

Edward Little is smitten with a certain bartender.

modern au. really lovely, wholesome, and happy; just what these boys deserve!

The Thylacine by Gigi_Sinclair  / 1.7k, t 

"Thylacines. That's what Sophia called them, all those years ago in Van Diemen's Land. Dogs with tiger stripes, cats with pouches. They stretch their jaws at him, as Francis struggles to sit. The movement makes his head spin. He pushes the discomfort aside. He has no time to entertain it; he must escape."

also features cracroft/crozier. this is a really clever, funny piece set during francis’s withdrawal; poor francis is a bit muddled in the throes of his fever, and gets caught up in a memory from van diemen’s land. i absolutely loved little and jopson’s reactions in this, and especially jopson and crozier’s conversation the next morning.

Prelude in D Major by scribomania  /  2.7k, t

Hodgson is very fond of the musical apparatus in Terror's great cabin; Edward is not.

For the Terror Bingo square "denial".

i’m a big big lover of terror lieutenant nonsense, and this fic absolutely delivers! just absolutely delightful.

When the Lights Go On Again by Gigi_Sinclair  /  4.1k, t

"Edward Little's ancestors were Naval officers, almost to a man. Nevertheless, from a young age, Edward's eyes turned to the sky rather than the sea.

He longed to fly, as high and as frequently as possible. In the Royal Air Force, he got his wish. He was happy there, thriving, rising in the ranks apace and doing what he always wanted to do. Then came the first of September, 1939."

wwii au. edward is a squadron leader in the royal air force, and jopson is a corporal working for group captain crozier. i’m weak for wwi and wwii aus to begin with, and this one is done beautifully. while it doesn’t hand-wave the trauma and heartbreak of war, it doesn’t hit you over the head with it either, and the result is a really soft, bittersweet, hopeful piece.

lozer

a lily for my love by whalersandsailors  /  3.7k, m

Solomon never thought that soul-signs were real, and the stories he heard about them made soulmates sound more like a prison sentence than any fairy tale romance. It is not until he finds a soul-sign on the skin of a very dear friend that he realizes their importance, as well as their undoing.

this piece is!!! beautiful!!! very poignant, and really had me feeling for solomon. i love what’s been done with the soulmark conceit—it’s not just a simple “we have soulmarks, we’re soulmates!!!’ au (which i’ll admit to enjoying too), but a really thoughtful take on the trope. the slow way tozer puzzles everything out is wonderful, and i love the glimpses we get into several of his friendships & relationships. 

morfin/weekes

to help you remember by whalersandsailors  /  1.2k, g

An anniversary, during which Weekes presents Morfin with a gift, and Morfin struggles to remember why.

do you ever just get clotheslined by a pairing you’d never even considered before? because that’s what this fic did to me

[thaliatimsh]

7, 11 and 28 for the writer's meme, pretty please

THANK YOU BRO, here goes!

7: Share a snippet from one of your favorite pieces of prose you’ve written and explain why you’re proud of it. 

HMMMM I thought about it a lot and I’ve decided on THIS ONE, from take heart:

Ready, Edward thinks, as he sprints through the little township of tents they've built up, but calm - he's not calm, not at all, as he barges into the same four tents three times, their desolate little home a multiplying, identical ballroom of high yellowed canvas - like a mirror maze at the fairground, he runs himself into the same dead end over and over again, comes out just as disoriented as before. Distantly, he can, at least, hear George's plummy, imperious tones at the armoury, and then Henry's lower Plymouth drawl; they're not arguing, so Edward has time. Calm. 

ANYWAY I really enjoy the imagery here, both of like, the dizzy feeling of being lost and also of... an anchor in it? I often have very strong mental images for things I want to write and this one was a doozy.

11: Is writing your passion or just a fun hobby?

I’m!!! Honestly not sure? I was gonna say like, my lifelong dream is to write one absolutely BANGING book every ten years or so, like Donna Tartt, which I suppose is the kind of thing someone with a passion would say. I have a couple of original WIPs that I think could be Actual Novels some day, but I also worry that because I’m very untrained and don’t know what I’m doing in general that I’m just embarrassing myself and stepping on toes. rip

28: Share three of your favorite fic writers and why you like them so much.

AAAAH... the problem with this is that... I’d say ‘oh all of my friends write such great fic so I’ll talk about someone who isn’t my friend’ except SIKE if I like someone’s writing I’m immediately like >:) *hunts u down* so iM FHGJSHFJH but like. straight off the top of my head:

HANNAH @pooraurora, vegetas on ao3 who is without a doubt one of the funniest fuckers in the fandom & one of the only people who’ve made me Give A Shit About J*plittle

DERRY @derryday, derryday on ao3 (dam the Brand), who writes some of the most THOUGHTFUL and GENTLE fic (am I CONSTANTLY thinking abt her interregnum series? YES) ALSO made me Give A Shit About C*rvoJess which is ASTOUNDING because it’s otherwise a borderline notp, despite being canon.

EMMA @tea-me-and-salt, tea_tales_and_whales on ao3 who can write 10k words with such a delicate touch that they fly by like they were 600 and make you really MAD there isn’t more - I was gonna say made me Give A Shit About X Pairing but honestly I’m down with the clown with any pairing she comes up with & we have discussed this LONG

BOW DOWN TO THE QUEENS OF MAKING ME GIVE A SHIT ABOUT PAIRINGS

then there’s notthebees on ao3 who has a real talent for writing personal connections that neither party are entirely sure on and exist in a limbo of misery & devotion that is honestly HEARTBREAKING.

and idk if you’ve ever read anything by @scribomaniatic, scribomania on ao3, but everything she writes is like a finely tuned machine, precision engineering writing but with LOVE. astounding

[scribomaniatic]

Hodgson is very fond of the musical apparatus in Terror’s great cabin; Edward is not. Shenanigans ensue.

For the @theterrorbingo square “denial”

Pairing: Thomas Jopson/Lt Edward Little

Rating: Teen and up

Words: 2722

[iphigeniainaulis]

3, 23, 27 💜

3. How would you describe your writing style?

Detailed and multilayered. It may sound childish, but I’m keen on hiding easter eggs and leaving clues in my works whether it’s a line from a poem, allusions to a famous play or just a lovely melody that inspired me to write something. And also I do love immersing myself into the world I’m creating.

The result? Be prepared to learn about literally everything — the sounds, the smells and the background. 

And the feelings, of course.

Analysing characters' feelings, thoughts and motivation serves two purposes. Firstly, it allows me as a writer to understand them on a deeper level and even learn something new about them. Secondly, this ‘dissection’ enables them to become more integral and alive.

The negative side of it is that sometimes your writing may balance on the brink of scribomania with all those extra synonyms, epithets and participial constructions. 

And the hardest thing here is to realise what metaphor will speak volumes to readers and what may be thrown away without hesitation. 

23. Dialogue or description? Why is the other one so hard?

Already answered here 💫

27. Do you agree that one shouldn't start a story with a piece of dialogue?

Why not? This is such a nontrivial way of introducing the story and intriguing your readers :)

There are also some good examples in world literature — ‘My Life’ by Anton Chekhov or ‘Guilt’ by Judy Budnitz.

Thank you so much for the ask 💜

[definegodliness]

Hi hi!

Thank you so much for such a thorough response.

It seems our experience writing is quite similiar. Its nice knowing someone else feels writing so profoundly (no ome i know seemed to understand my scribomania, then again. Im not so eloquent with my words verbally. So thank you for that)

Idk if you could tell by mini word spew but.... Every last word was welcomed. Thank you so very much. Your advice also proved helpful, not far off from what i already do. Seems i should just stick at it.

8> Wishing you a rosy week <8

That's the other key. Just stick at it! You have a lovely week as well.

[scribblernekomeow]

Scribomania

I think I have this. Also called Graphomania

A morbid fascination. An impulsive behavior that a person feels that she or he has to write. Although the result is rather perturbable, as, instead of writing sensible things, a person writes something incomprehensible and grammatically incorrect. (e.g like this one. Lol)

Excessive musing. hahaha 

~NeKo

[scribomaniatic]

Thomas Jopson and Edward Little are soft and in love. Have I mentioned they are in love?

For @theterrorbingo square “we can’t risk that”.

Rating: General audiences

Words: 532

[definegodliness]

how does writing affect your life? perhaps as a whole or in the day to day

It keeps me sane. I'd call it scribomania, but that word's definition doesn't really cut it: "a passion or urge to write". The passion is mad and the urge is feverish. It's a necessity. Writing is an outlet that keeps the thoughts in my head from piling up and overtaking me, which in my mid-twenties lead to severe depressions. Writing is also my prime emotional outlet, which is why I always say that people shouldn't confuse a poet for their poetry; though you wouldn't say it reading me, honestly, in real life I am fairly unavailable emotionally. Even though I am fairly emotional, haha -- I guess it's one of the many contradiction within my personality that makes it hard for people to understand me.