November Writing Challenge: Addiction

At the start of every month I ask my Facebook followers to suggest some writing prompts and challenges and then I post the one I chose at the end of the month. This time I picked ‘Addiction’ which was a one word prompt. What came to mind was a list poem so here it is:

Image by Rilson S. Avelar from Pixabay

Addiction

Addicted to dinosaur remains

Fossilised ideas

Dirty pleasures

Heating homes

Running cars

Getting there faster

Building roads

To better boost business

Addicted to plastic

To the convenience of forgetting

It sits in the earth forever

We breathe it in

Drink it, eat it

Feed it to babies

It flutters in trees

It drifts on the seas

Around the neck of a seal

The beak of a bird

In the stomach of a whale

Addicted to shiny new things

Neat front lawns

Weeds killed efficiently

Packages delivered on time

Addicted to right now

Addicted to cheap food

To burgers and nuggets

And penned in pigs

To horror and murder

Mined diamonds

iPhones and slavery

To turning a blind eye

To what doesn’t concern us

Addicted to capitalism

To what we need, what we want

To infinite growth on a finite planet

To investment

But not in nature

But not in the wild

Addicted to believing we are important

To slaughtered hedgerows

Felled trees

Filthy oceans

Polluted rivers

Addicted to ourselves

To speed, to need, to want, to greed

Unable to see

Addicted to the end

National Poetry Day: The Green Man

Image by Simon Wijers from Pixabay

She walked in the woods to be alone

To shed tears with her head bowed low

The sun burned through the trees like an eye

Fir trees swayed against an autumn sky

Beneath the earth lay tree root bones

A grave of leaves, pine needles, and fir cones

She took photos so the memories would last

Ferns, silver birch, ash and oak watched her pass

She felt the woods watching and imagined the lives

Of pixies, fairies, and trolls, left alone to thrive

And as she wandered curiously through their woodland home

She pictured the green man sat upon his throne

She returned home with dry eyes, her burden now undone

Then she looked at the pictures and saw a figure in every one

Behind the trees, within the trees, a grinning silhouette

When she thought she’d been alone he’d been following her every step

A gnarled finger like a twisted root tapped upon the window pane

Polished black eyes in a face of green, The Green Man was his name

She opened her mouth to scream but it filled up with moss

Roots snaked in and choked her until her life was lost

The Only Writing Advice You Ever Need

Google the term ‘writing tips’ or ‘writing advice’ and you will soon find yourself drowning in things you should and should not do as a writer. Write every day. Write when you feel like it. Self-publish. Don’t self-publish. Know your audience. Write for yourself. Write what you know. Write what you like. Other writers will give you advice, and people who don’t write will give you advice. There are infinite amounts of websites and author services dedicated to giving you advice.

And of course, a lot of this advice is important and valuable. If you are new to writing, of course you should seek advice, ask for help, ask for feedback and be prepared to listen to those who have gone before you. The trouble is so much of the advice is contradictory, because what works for one writer will inevitably not work for another. The trick is forging your own, individual path through all that advice and all those tips.

Image by Pexels from Pixabay

Take what you need from the writing advice websites and articles, and ignore what you don’t. Because above all else, you have to remember that one size does not fit all. Some writers plan and plot to an excruciating degree before they ever start writing, and that’s okay. Some writers don’t plan or plot a thing, they just start writing and see what happens and that is also okay. Some writers get the concept first and have to create the characters to fit the idea, and some writers get the characters first and have to create the plot to fit them. Both are totally okay. Some writers write every day. Some writers only write when they feel like it. It doesn’t matter what type you are.

The only writing advice I personally think you ever really need is this.

Do what you want.

You can interpret that any way you like. Find your own path. Create your own journey. Do whatever makes you happy. Do whatever the hell you want.

Because above all else writing should make us happy and passionate. We should feel happy and excited and passionate about our writing. It should be, above all else, our happy place. The thing that makes us feel like ourselves. The thing that makes us feel free. And yes, further down the road, you might want to think about audiences, and readers, and markets and blurbs and selling…but before you ever get close to those things, you have to love what you write. You have to love to write. You have to be totally and utterly in love with the act of writing because quite simply, the act of writing is for you. It’s yours.

Its your escape. Your freedom. Your way of interpreting the world. Your way of figuring out how you feel and what you think. Your way of speaking up and being heard. Your way of leaving some kind of imprint on this world. Your way of being you. That’s how writing feels for me. And every time I try to please anyone else, it all gets messed up.

Writing is mine. And I do what I want.

I’ll leave you with this poem, one of many from Charles Bukowski that for me sums up how I feel about writing. Please note, this poem does not sum up how everyone feels about writing! Other writers may not relate to this at all, and that is okay! I just love this poem so much and I feel like Bukowski only ever did exactly what he wanted.

“So you want to be a writer


if it doesn’t come bursting out of you
in spite of everything,
don’t do it.

unless it comes unasked out of your
heart and your mind and your mouth
and your gut,
don’t do it.

if you have to sit for hours
staring at your computer screen
or hunched over your
typewriter
searching for words,
don’t do it.

if you’re doing it for money or
fame,
don’t do it.

if you’re doing it because you want
women in your bed,
don’t do it.

if you have to sit there and
rewrite it again and again,
don’t do it.

if it’s hard work just thinking about doing it,
don’t do it.

if you’re trying to write like somebody
else,
forget about it.

if you have to wait for it to roar out of
you,
then wait patiently.
if it never does roar out of you,
do something else.

if you first have to read it to your wife
or your girlfriend or your boyfriend
or your parents or to anybody at all,
you’re not ready.

don’t be like so many writers,
don’t be like so many thousands of
people who call themselves writers,
don’t be dull and boring and
pretentious, don’t be consumed with self-
love.
the libraries of the world have
yawned themselves to
sleep
over your kind.
don’t add to that.
don’t do it.

unless it comes out of
your soul like a rocket,
unless being still would
drive you to madness or
suicide or murder,
don’t do it.

unless the sun inside you is
burning your gut,
don’t do it.

when it is truly time,
and if you have been chosen,
it will do it by
itself and it will keep on doing it
until you die or it dies in you.

there is no other way.

and there never was.”

We Write…

We write to remember

We write to forget

We write to find ourselves

We write to connect

We write to reach the truth

We write to construct lies

We write to create worlds

We write so we can hide

We write to make new friends

We write to have control

We write so we stay young

We write so we never grow old

We write to find out what we think

We write to find out how we feel

We write to discover what we believe

We write perfect moments to steal

We write to imagine the future

We write to understand the past

We write to record the now

We write so that we will last

We write to be seen

We write to be heard

We write to have a voice

We write to find the perfect word

We write to speak for the voiceless

We write to see ourselves in others

We write to express our pain

We write because we suffer

We write to be free

We write to hold on

We write to let go

We write to live on