As you know my background, and Susan Reid's, is in journalism. I doubt too many of you read daily newspapers these days, but here is an example of newspaper journalism at its best. Check it out. Give yourself over to the time it will take you to read it. It's worth it. (And thanks to YWP ghost guru, Barbara Ganley for a reminder to share it with you!) Tell us what you think below...
Congratulations to Rebecca Valley, December 12th, Cowbird Daily Story
Read The Calvin winners. (A writing award sponsered by Vermont's Calvin Coolidge Foundation)
Help us make this an even more enjoyable site!
"Don't write because you want to say something, write because you have something to say."
-F. Scott Fitzgerald
"The twisted limbs of the tulip tree groaned and swayed in the wind," as I walked into the dark spooky forest. I was very scared. I kept thinking that I saw a ghost shadow. I heard rustling amongst the leaves. I turned around and saw a huge black creature with large sharp teeth. I began sprinting for my life and soon was out of the forest. I was safe.
I finally have proof that my friend is weird. Here it is, the only thing that I can tell you about my friend being weird... The proof is that my friend told me that she was so excited she could burst her butt, and to tell you the truth, I am so excited I could also burst my butt!
He’d wait days, weeks, and months. Hell, he’d wait a century just to feel it again. It was calming to him. He missed how it felt. That bittersweet symphony of I Miss You’s and I Love You’s. It would do no good to rush this feeling, he knew that. If it was rushed, it wouldn’t be real. He was patient; very patient. So when the chance finally showed itself to him, he took it. It was pure bliss; the butterflies fluttering in the pit of his stomach. Who would have known that one of the most popular clichés would be true? Maybe that’s why it was the most popular cliché. He had missed the presence of this feeling, so when he found it again he held on tight. He was ready to board that rollercoaster that they call love. Through the ups, downs, through all of it; he’d stay and be there. This was a love that he didn’t want to let go of. This was a love so true. True love had never felt so sweet; even though he fell in love, with someone like he.
I am from West Chester Pennsylvania
I am from 100 degree summers
and 20 degree winters
where one inch of snow is enough to call school
and where the bus doesn’t come until 8:00 Read more »
In winter when it's all cold and you walk to school,
It's below ten and everybody's inside,
You see this one swing,
With someone there,
Not caring about the cold,
Who wants to swing in the cold, Read more »
i was nothing to you.
to being nothing.
but with you
it bothers me because
you convinced me
that i wasn't.
you lied to me
over Read more »
It’s Human Rights
You did it,
You “came out”.
At first it was a relief, but now regret fills your entire being as a terrifying realization hits you;
Sadly, you don’t have the luxury of a life so accepting…
Your mother throws you away like trash,
And your father starts to abuse you, first emotionally and then physically,
Causing you to resort to pills and knives,
Your best friend leaves you, not wanting to become “infected”,
But being gay is not a disease and everyone is just too ignorant to see that.
This is why you didn’t want to tell anyone.
Now the rhyme of sticks and stones hurts far more than broken bones.
The school halls are a battlefield worse than home where every day you fight against the inevitable,
And the principal’s office is the graveyard that you dread ever being buried in, Read more »
Do you know what ticks me off?
Do you know what grinds my gears?
Do you know what gets my knickers in a bundle?
Facebook itself does not annoy me.
It’s what people post on Facebook that drive me insane.
It’s not just one kind of post, either.
It’s everything people post.
For starters, I cannot stand the people who post selfies every five minutes.
It’s just narcissistic.
It would be one thing if they were photos of something interesting, or at Read more »
Stop appearing in my poetry!
It's been what, two years now
that you've been invading my poetry
like a soldier, gun cocked
shooting every other girl who dares get near me.
I just want to write an innocent love poem again.
So why is it that every poem I write ends up being about you?
Let go of my heart,
it isn't yours to hold anymore!
Every time I write a love poem about a girl
she somehow transforms into you.
Brown eyes turns blue,
black hair turns blond.
And before I know it I'm writing
another love poem about you.
Another one to ship off and
lie on your doorstep
because you'll never read them.
Or if you have read them, you give them to your new lover Read more »
What just happened to the kitchen?
It was clean a second ago...
What just happened to the counters?
They were crumb-les a minute ago...
What happened to the fridge?
It's like a bomb went off!
Where have all these wrappers come from?
WHERE IS ALL THE FOOD?!
I've got a hunch I know where it went
seeing all this damage.
The munchers, the crunch-ers, the junk food devourers. Read more »
I realized something today,
while trying to pick a screen saver for my computer.
I wanted to go festive, seasonal, so I began going through the usual snowflake pictures.
But none would cut it.
None could fit the description I wanted, none qualified, none "got the job"
I must have been through at least 200 pictures before I found one that caught my eye.
Every other picture had only snowflakes,
Plain, simple, almost too plain and simple.
But then I saw snowflakes falling in the woods, surrounded by magnificent white trees, with a single log cabin illuminated by what must have been a fire,
Darkness was starting to consume the area, and steam was still steadily rolling from the chimney, the chimney that I was told as a child, Santa Clause comes through each Christmas.
And suddenly, I knew I had a winner.
Because that picture felt like home, and I wanted to feel that every time I opened up my computer.
When I was stressed, when I was anxious, when I was going through a rough patch. Read more »
She sits up slowly and looks at her face in the mirror. I see myself on top of her head, just like every morning. I am in a messy bundle of knots and twists with a fading layer of yesterdays coating of hair products still suffocating me. Next, as always, she reaches her arms up, yawns, then pulls herself out of bed and smacks her alarm clock in annoyance. The alarm clock goes silent, putting a happier appearance on her face. The final moments before the worst part of my life. She walks slow like a zombie over to her bathroom with a glower at the rememberance of going to school. I once again meet myself in the bathroom mirror. There is no other way can I explain what I see than monster.
Allow me to pause myself a moment. You may have figured out that I am the hair on a girls head. The job I have is good - yet at the same time - terrible. Every morning I get every hair product ever seen sprayed right on to me, draping me in sticky, revolting globs of goop. I still love my girl, though. The best moments she has lived through, I have lived through too. We grow together, adventure together, and experience everything together. Every breathing moment of her life has been mine as well. I can explain our relationship as "bumpy" for all the good and bad I watch from my perch on her head. Read more »
YWP Community Members,
We are looking for a handful of active site users and YWP community builders to help us in a HUGE but exciting project: to redesign and rebuild this Web site.
We have some clear ideas and a vision and are putting the final touches on a proposal for some large-scale funding. But we need some of you to help all along the way:
- DESIGN: After the holidays, we are going to pull together a group of users to ideastorm about what the perfect ywp site would be: what you might be able to do on it, who you might be able to connect with ... We'll have a couple of sessions here at YWP (though you could participate from afar in a smaller way). Pizza and M&Ms, of course, will be abundant. We'll also ask you to do some prep work ahead of time. Commitment to this would be for a limited time.
- ITERATIVE TESTING: We will want users to critique and test as we get going. This can be done online; starts in the spring. Ongoing commitment; mostly online.
- CODING: We will be looking for one person who wants a JOB being the primary builder of the site. I realize that most of you are in school, but some of you may know of someone ... We want someone who lives and breathes Web; is intrigued with coding/Web development and knows something about it; and who would relish being mentored to work in Drupal (the open source software we use) by the very best. An amazing opportunity. We are taking names... but won't be filling the position until we have the funding. (Spring or bust.) Send me the name and contact info, or have them get in touch.
- SUGGESTIONS: We want your suggestions, links to sites YOU love, ideas, complaints... Create a BLOG post for this and use the keyword, ywp3.0. Only requires energy to keep those crazy ideas coming...
If any of you would like to talk to me in more detail, drop me an email, give me a call, send smoke signals, message me, Skype me, send me a telegram, Twitterize me, mind-meld me, release your carrier pigeon, whatever... But give us your best ideas!
Remember: Only The Strong Writers Survive!
ggRead more »
I need someone
To be my white line
I can't drive through
Without the guide
Of the line
Am I to go through this snowstorm alone?
I need that guide
I need something
Marking the line
That I cannot cross
Those blue headlights
May catch my attention
They may illuminate me
Make me feel good
They'll blind me Read more »
Editor's Note: this piece was submitted on Dec. 3, just two days before the passing of Nelson Mandela. This is a perspective piece about one of the defining times of Mandela's life, written from the perspective of his bevolved dog.
My master is going to Robin (Robben) Island. I wish I could join him because I like to chase birds. My master is Nelson Mandela, and he has been convicted of tree-sun (treason). I am a dog, a Rhodesian Ridgeback, and am a fast and powerful hunting dog. Some people call me the Lion Dog. Trees, sun, robins, an island . . . it all sounds like a vacation to me!
I have a strip of rust down my back that goes the opposite direction of my other fur, kind of like a springbok. I’m a fast dog. I can help humans hunt lions. I am very smart, strong-willed and will always protect my master. I could never be treated as a slave, and that is why Nelson Mandela is such a good master for me.
Nelson Mandela fought against apart-tied (apartheid). I don’t like to be tied apart from my master. I like to run and be free. I like to RUN! I miss my master because I won’t see him again because he has been sentenced to life in prison. He is tied apart from me forever!
I hear that he will only get one visitor a year, and they can stay for only 30 minutes. By one visitor, I guess they mean one person, not a dog. He can only get one letter every six months and write one letter every six months. Since I will only live to be twelve, I will never see him again! Read more »