
(& some things stay the same)
Submitted by QwertyGirl on Wed, 03/10/2010 - 8:37pmDon't really know where this is going. Ideas?
_______________________________________________
There are lots of things in this world that I don't understand.
I don't understand why today was such a beautiful day.
I don't understand why none of my teachers would go let us sit in the sun (not even for a minute).
I don't understand love.
I don't understand high school.
I don't understand pain.
I don't understand the concept of understanding.
Sometimes I wonder why we have to understand.
Why must we understand love?
Isn't it beautiful enough on its own?

Art of Storytelling Workshop This Saturday!
Submitted by katyd on Wed, 03/10/2010 - 7:33pmJust a quick reminder that my workshop, The Art of Storytelling, is happening this Saturday at the Young Writers Project space in the Champlain Mill in Winooski. We'll talk about the elements of narrative and look at some examples. We'll also do a series of writing prompts and begin working on stories of our own. The workshop will be from 10:00 a.m.-2:00 p.m. An outline of the workshop is attached, as are a few stories we'll take a closer look at this weekend.
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Narrative Writing Workshops
Submitted by ggevalt on Tue, 03/09/2010 - 2:07amUPDATE: Make sure you sign up for the upcoming narrative writing workshops -- March 13 and March 20 -- below or by email to gg, Katy or Erik. This is a great opportunity! Spaces are limited! (Online follow-up after workshops)

New Notifications -- Private Messaging
Submitted by ggevalt on Fri, 03/05/2010 - 5:14pmUPDATED: 3.10.2010 11:40 p.m. -- A change on Twitter
We had a couple of complaints by folks regarding the setup for Twitter. It defaulted to posting to twitter.com/ywpvt and folks following it say they were being deluged with references to all your posts. While they just stopped following ywpvt, that was not the purpose -- we want you to get more readership from this.
So, for the moment, we've disconnnected the global account. We'll continue to manually highlight great work, until we adapt the module. HOWEVER, if you have a Twitter account, you can post links to your work on your Twitter account. Here's how: Go to "My Account," click "Edit" tab and then click "Twitter Accounts" tab. Put in your info about your account. (You can then choose to have your Twitter posts come into your space for others to read.) Then when you create a blog post, you'll see an option to post an announcement about your blog post on your Twitter account. Check the box for yay, uncheck the box for nay.
More below on the other changes.
2009-2010 Newspaper Index
Submitted by edevries on Tue, 09/15/2009 - 12:37pmYWP 2009/10 Newspaper Series Index Links for selections and pages from the 2009/10 YWP Newspaper Series appearing on Mondays in the Rutland Herald, Tuesdays in the Times Argus and The Valley News, and Wednesdays in the Saint Albans Messenger and the Hometown section of the Burlington Free Press and Saturdays in the Brattleboro Reformer. To submit, click here.

Sometimes, I Lie.
Submitted by civilized on Tue, 03/09/2010 - 10:10pmI just lied.
I'm sitting with my arms around my chest, wishing I hadn't given in. He looked so happy, so pretty, not a minute ago; what went wrong? I must've said something, must've triggered the explosion, why else would he raise these bruises on my face? On my back? My mask probably slipped, this isn't like him. But I told him I was fine. I told him he was forgiven. I told him all these things and he turned around, he said he couldn't look at me anymore.
I lied this morning, too.

My Guardian's Death
Submitted by Bailyraee on Tue, 03/09/2010 - 9:35pmRoad. Snow. Air. Tree.
Slap in the face.
What the hell?
I believe after this point I was in a daze. Staring at my ripped open steering wheel. The deflated air bag coated me like a thick heavy blanket, one that could only be considered comfortable in this situation.
I was dumbfounded by the quiet. Taken by surprise by the contrast between the serene view of the mountains and the sickening panic that was taking over my brain.
Gas off. Seat belt off. Door pushed once, twice, three times before cracking enough for me to crawl out of my injured jeep.

On Top of the World
Submitted by XOLizaKateXO on Tue, 03/09/2010 - 8:11pmUp here
On the top of the world
There’s nowhere to go
But down
The blood pounds
The light drowns
And all I can hear
Is you
And your heavenly
Sounds
Way up here
On the tippy top
Where all I can see
Is below
Where the feelings grow
Where the words flow
Where all I have
I bestow
On you
And when I’m above
When I’m here on top
All I can do
Is be
No more mediocrity
Or satisfactory
Because for you
I decree
To be better
Up in the sky
Way over my worth
I see more
And know more
And feel more
It heats
My core
You are
My lure
And I can tell
I can tell
What you have
An Apology (Hey, You)
Submitted by threeguesses on Mon, 03/08/2010 - 9:14pmHey, you–
yes, you,
quiet girl sitting in the back hiding behind
your hair–
I just wanted to say
(I’m sorry)
I’ve forgotten your
name, but I’ve never really
forgotten
you–
you with your green eyes like rainforests,
you with your cascading blonde hair and
porcelain skin–
(I’m sorry)
I’ve never paid you much attention,
but
you intrigue me,
you know–
there’s something
different
about you.
(& I’m sorry that)
I don’t really
know you.
But I could.
So, girl sitting in the back hiding behind
your hair,
intriguing girl whose name I’ve
forgotten
(& really, I’m sorry

His Eyes
Submitted by PreppyChocolateMoose on Thu, 03/04/2010 - 8:56pm
It was the most brilliant color blue I'd ever seen
That dazzles in his eyes.
A gray-blue in nature of its hue,
But the glimmer inside is luminescent,
And makes me realize that they are the most unique I’ve ever seen.
They change color, depending on the day.
With that, they change emotion,
From joyous to tear-filled,
To grief-stricken and back to a sort of content feeling.
His eyes, his eyes,
They say it all.
I can tell what he’s thinking,
What he’s feeling,
What’s on his heart.
I can see it all.
In his eyes,
I am who I want to be.
He sees me as I am,

Peasant
Submitted by Katy on Fri, 02/26/2010 - 4:52pmBecause still there are traces of you in On the Ground--that one record always spinning, dizzying this marvelous circus-piano-hand mindset into the lashes of that boy's dark eyes. You told me he sang lullabies to his own perfect ears to put himself to sleep, and you were entirely, wholly enthralled, in love with the idea of it. So was I.
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