NaBloPoMo, NaNoWriMo and Photography 101

Salutations world! I have realised that it has been a while since I’ve been active on M.C. Scriptor. However….. it is for this reason that I am now attempting the NaMo challenges; National Blog Posting Month, and National Novel Writing Month (also known as NaBloPoMo and NaNoWriMo).

NaBloPoMo is a month dedicated to posting every day for the month of November.

NaNoWriMo is more focused on literature. It challenges writers everywhere to start, if not complete, a novel of fifty-thousand words before 11:59 pm on November 30th.

I look forward to the challenge of writing the novel I have put off for so long, and posting each day. I will be very busy this month to say the least!

If you’d like more information on the NaMo challenges, check out this article:
http://en.blog.wordpress.com/2014/10/24/the-namos-are-coming-the-namos-are-coming/

EDIT: I have now also jumped into the Photography 101 course being run at the Daily Post. You can now expect photography to be posted daily for the remainder of the month.

To my fellow bloggers and writers, best of luck to you all, and here’s to a very productive month! -MC

The Unspoken Addiction

For those of you who don’t know, there is a style of poetry I do, called anti-love poetry. Essentially, it exists because I suck at writing love poems. They are usually told from the perspective of the bitter, or full of sarcasm. Generally.

So, interesting story…. I realised the other day, that I have never written a decent love poem. I was challenged to attempt one by many of my friends. I caved, so behold the result of peer pressure.

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The Unspoken Addiction

Often when you hear the word addiction, Continue reading

Closer to the Heart

Daily Post asked:

-”You’re asked to recite a poem (or song lyrics) from memory — what’s the first one that comes to mind? Does it have a special meaning, or is there another reason it has stayed, intact, in your mind?”-

http://dailypost.wordpress.com/dp_prompt/by-heart/

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This is a story, of my first poetry reading:

-”I once sat going out of my mind,
my interesting fantasy worlds I’d find,
but it sucked I was broke,
I could hire no bloke,
so I could find no actors to sign.”-

These are the words to an older poem I wrote, The Reasons Why I Write (With Creative Answers).  It is posted here, if interested, http://mcscriptor.com/2014/06/10/the-reasons-why-i-write-creative-answers/

This poem, has always been of value to me; for it was the first spoken word poem I ever performed.

I had always held interest in written poetry, but it wasn’t until about a year or so ago, that I had taken an interest in spoken word.

I had watched countless poets on the internet, and had been to a  few poetry slams, just to simply observe. The talent was phenomenal, I assure you!

One night a few months back, I heard over social media, of an open mic poetry night at a local downtown café.

I had attended the event with one of my friends, whom, about an hour into the event, had talked me into finally, “getting my arse up on the stage” instead of merely observing from my chair

I hurriedly scribbled down in my notebook, one of the few poems of mine I had committed to memory.

I raised my hand during the last call rather enthusiastically, and strolled my way up to the stage.

I took hold of the microphone, or attempted to….. as unfortunately, the last poet had been very, very tall.

I called off to the side of the stage, “excuse me, could you please tell me how to adjust this thing? I am rather short.”

Continuing on, I knew that my stage ability likely lagged behind the ability of the previous poets. Did I feel compelled to hide that fact? I did not. In fact, I decided to let everyone know, exactly what catastrophic, walking tornado of words they were in for.

“Let the record show,” I began Continue reading

White Void of Nothing

the crystal glass

The most fragile things.

Hanging in the balance against,

a stark white background.

Forever suspended,

in the white void of nothing.

Handle them with care,

for the truth of the colour world,

is a bit shocking to some.

Glass it just breaks,

a rose doesn’t wilt, it stabs.

And so goes the minds,

of far too many in this world.

the crystal glass 2