The Ladies of Lit: Volume VII

Feb 7, 201121 min read

Deviation Actions

Published: Feb 7, 2011

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Welcome to volume seven of my ongoing Literature news series, The Ladies of Lit!

The premise here is simple. Below you will find an assortment of Literature features from a selection of female deviants here on DeviantART, all of them suggested by you. In this article, you will also find a variety of other things of interest, including:

This article's deviant spotlight: featuring the wonderful ATrue. She has offered to answer a few questions as well, to tell us a bit about what inspires her writing and which piece in particular she favors.

Additional information about our upcoming events, including a special critique Q and A session in our official TheLadiesofLit chatroom. And we also have a selection of other interesting Literature news links to share with you.

Our "meet our contributors" section. Be sure to note me if you would like to volunteer your services or offer additional suggestions as to how to improve this series.

Now – On With the Features!

StJoan

_{Suggested by: wyldhoney

"Beside the fact she's shown this community an incredible amount of heart & soul, she's a fervent writer continuously pushing her boundaries and, in the process, gives us some fascinating pieces on all the great things in life."}

shebledgreenink
The Great WallWhen papers ask me where I'm from, I write "Seattle," because they don't want to know the real answer. When people ask me where I'm from, I say "downtown," and they take a good look at me and take that to mean "Chinatown."
My parents run one of the zillion dim sum restaurants here. They're what the white kids at school call "fresh off the boat." Most of the people here are. They don't speak English at home, and they try not to at work. They don't watch anything on American TV; they read the local Chinese paper and watch the one Asian channel, pausing to turn off the TV in disgust whenever one of the five daily Korean soap operas comes on. On Saturdays they go to the market and complain about the terrible selection. When they manage to find chicken's feet, they declare a feast day and eat it with reverence, like it fell from the heavens just for us.
I try to spend as much time away from them as I can. There are only a handful of kids my age here; of those who have children, most are eit the Path to Mannequin ManhoodHis first job was at Macy's. They hired him to stand there and deliver a message to every passing customer: "You can buy everything in the store, but you still won't look as good as I do. You'll never have the life I look like I should have." Girls would pass by and marvel at his carefully crafted features, admire his acting talent, then discreetly write their numbers on his hands and spend the next week waiting by the phone. Most never got a call back. If he ever called one, it was out of curiosity. Once his curiosity was satisfied, he'd tell her it was over and he'd get back to his life.
He lost that job shortly after falling in love with a mannequin from the ladies' section. He did everything he could think of to catch her eye: sneaked over to talk to her while the manager wasn't looking, wore her favorite brands, complimented her outfits, but no matter what, she would only ever look in one direction, and it was never his. On the day he met her fiancé, his body broke apart. His

Mature Content

NeverlandI future
“we will create a new world”
you said, and I laughed.
green grass, a white house
a studio and sammiches
and a thousand more years
slipping between our fingers like sand in an
abandoned beach.
II present
we are amateur architects
with sketched blueprints drawn
in band-aids
on our hearts.
so far we know
absolutely nothing;
your guitarface will be
the sweetest smile and
my bleeding pens will be
tangible thought and
I will carefully record the history
of every note you coax from the planet, but
how will we get there?
III past
the Earth I live in is
choked with steel and
a hundred stories shadow the sky.
our new world is where
you live, but
I am already gone,
and I can never return.
(someday, you’ll fall back to Earth too.)

_{Suggested by: SadisticIceCream

"shebledgreenink's writing hits hard with incredible, poetic turns of phrase and surprising ideas that most of us might not even think of. Reading her work is very much like diving into a beautifully skewed version of our reality."}

StephethxLoser
Cross“What are you to do with me Father?”
Every syllable held a distinct note of mockery. This man couldn’t save him, no man could. Not even one straight from God and the condemned man knew for a fact that this priest was by no means straight from God.  The holding cell was small, cramped, and it smelt very distinctly of stale urine. The urine wasn’t his, he’d plea innocent to that, but nothing else. He was quite sure he was guilty of everything else. “I’ve killed thirteen men, you know better than I what happens now.”
The holy man was garbed in the typical bishop attire, which flowed in ways that made it seem too big for him, because in more than just one way it was. The damned man sat in the filthy cell, indifferent to his unsanitary surroundings. He’d slept in worse places, he would’ve challenged that they both had. The Holy man did not touch the rusted bars of the cell but simply had half thoughts of doing so. He stood t Piano Lessons"Hear the keys as you press down?"
Click, click, click.
Click, click, click.
Click, click, clack.
"Your nails are getting long."
Play in order from C to C:
[Chromatic scale]
white, black, white, black, white
White, black, white, black, white
black, white, white--Thirteen
Those ivory keys are turning yellow.
Pages of books. The smell of age.
Tears shed over wrong notes.
[Whole Notes] Stick to the Repertoire.
Tone, tone, semitone,
tone, tone, tone,
semitone.
Don't skip that flat, the key is D minor
Do, Re, Mi, Fa,
Sol, La, Si, DO!
[Do, a deer!] Don't bang.
Lighter in the left hand.
The melody's in the right hand.
Don't cheat that quarter note
[Eight years of this, and then?]
            Lift!
  Play it right!
Again. Again. Again!
Wrists up, back straight.
Tight suit. Brace yourself.
You've got a song to play.
It goes:
Click click clack
Do Re--white black white black
Tone tone--clack -1- Starbucks 'Version 2'     On the island of Manhattan alone there are over one hundred and fifty novelty coffee shops attached to a very infamous chain.  Every one of them is sure to be serving the very same items, and it built, albeit the location in generally the same way.  It goes for not solely this chain, but every chain of coffee shops anywhere you can think of that at eight forty five in the evening most evenings, they are a downright boring place to be.
     Very few people seem to crave caffeine at such an outlandish hour.  Those who do, while eccentric enough people on their own do not venture out to procure the substance, leaving most shops devoid of patrons just fifteen minutes before closing.  It was not a given however, as the occasional interesting person would stop by.  Tonight did not seem to be one of those nights, and the shop was empty save for a meagre congregation of three. My Distant MuseYou are my distant muse.
My shy, and elusive mentor.
You seem so far away, and I know so little about you.
I've gathered not near enough, through your poetry
your prose, and brief palaver,
during which no words were actually spoken,
but written-Dare I call us friends?
I think so.
You inspire me, day by day.
Your remote presence, it
comforts me,
and I know that
and you must know that too,
right?
You are there.
In essence at least.
The Silent Witness to my mediocre
stab at creating something
utterly beautiful,
utterly meaningful,
utterly there.
Adeptly hidden you then come out
only to reassure me, like it was nothing-
at a distance, of course.
You are my distant muse after all.
Infinitely, you care.
Infinitely, you try.
You are the best there ever was.

_{Suggested by: RavensQuill

"StephethxLoser is one of those writers that isn't afraid to get nitty gritty and push the envelope of what we see as right or wrong. Her written works are provocative and stunning in visual and emotional context. She inspired me personally to push my boundaries, and I know she has done so for others as well."}

TheObviousChild
:thumb185781919::thumb185484267::thumb184884644::thumb178867240:

_{Suggested by: KneelingGlory

"TheObviousChild writes with wit, charm, and intelligence. Her poetry has received several awards and she runs the online literature project One Night Stanzas. Do not miss this woman's gallery."}

CrumpetsHarvey
Trip1
I speak six languages, French on the train,
Flemish in a square, money in my top hat,
I sell the hat, travel on, Italian at a Cathedral,
Hebrew on a mountain, money in my flat cap,
I travel against the sun, speak music with him.
2
I did not lose my treasure on the crossing
and no pirates approached our ship.
The natives are civilised, for natives;
a charming prince with a nose ring performed a dance for me.
3
wine buckfast lager pass a smoke man the dope shroom stash smashed
out of my head can't feel my feet the bed half a pill I'm delirious dead
4
Strong man and the Siamese twins dig ruts for the wheels
and the acrobat brews tea in a tin kettle.
I toss my top hat at a bear, for Mother Russia has been cruel.
5
And in India – Kerala, the south, yes – reading the Edakkal Caves,
Kutti Chattan, poems of 600 BC, love, kings, Roman ships all sailing in;
the Varthamana Pusthakam travelogue. For the BBC, yes.
A good documentary, insufficient, of c The Baron's Second War

Defeated, the Baron's demesne went native.
His mansion metamorphosed to jungle, the pasture to creeper,
the church to a mouldering outcrop, sprouting vines.
Spring came on like influenza.
The valley's belly bloated, sinuses swelled, noses dripped,
skin turned green and purple pustules ruptured its face.
The Baron fed it tablets and cough syrups but it vomited them downstream.
In March he fought a second war,
hacked trumpets and stamens with ceremonial sword,
blasted creepers with six remaining pistol bullets.
Letters from home told of the spring, the baby,
the twins, the horse races, the elopement of a cousin,
the new town hall, the mayor's affair, the mayor's wife's revenge
in the local paper, the daffodils, the unseasonable chill.
The Baron scratched shorter missives on bark slabs:
give'm hell fire, son, brimstone and hell fire.
You do have quaint ideas daddy, by return.
The crisp cream paper twisted, a barrel of powder all over the vale,
a spark –
the last legs of Urgent please replyWhat with the war
and the bad blood
and the batty city
and the weather
and mother in the attic in a strop
because the cat dropped a tea cup; and the cat tizzy-
whizzy at the dog's skirmishes beneath
her bed, at the demons she eye-spies
at sunrise; and what else,
auntie not speaking to uncle not speaking to grandpa
not speaking to me, for giving him lavender soap;
and with gyp from the old flesh wound
which the doctor said
I ought to get tattooed
a toothy mouth about its gaping black tongue
he said, and waggle it at parties, hah, hah,
which is a salve but not a solution;
and with the weeds in the garden
decay in the weeds
worms in the mould
and maggots in everything;
and the pot overfrothing, rice spilling in the kitchen,
sauce splattering on the lino, orangey and meaty bits, the kids on their knees
licking it up, which is sweet; and the slugs
which slop slime in the porridge but are delicious in stew,
in winter; what with the winter, the sleet; the windscreen an ice sheet;
holey socks;

_{Suggested by: ikazon

"CrumpetsHarvey's writing can at once be expressed as both straightforward and complex, immediately identifiable by the reader as something familiar, but gradually unraveling itself to reveal that it is much more detailed and intricate than that something familiar might have been."}

My Spotlight Deviant:

ATrue

:thumb141427526::thumb161011606::thumb146578362::thumb170605207:

_{Jessica has a flair for concise and honest writing. She knows her strengths well. However, she is never afraid to experiment and see where her writing takes her. Each piece offers unique and powerful insights into her creatively intelligent mind.}

She has also taken a few moments to share some of her own insights as a writer. I asked her a few questions:

Why do you write?

I write because I love it and because I don't think I could stop writing if I tried. My brain is wired for telling stories. I've had co-workers complain that I take too long to get to the point because there is always a story involved. I see the imagery, the irony, and the allusions in life and I translate those into my writing, both fiction and nonfiction. My brain is constantly on the go to the point where I have to get out of bed to write at midnight in order to be able to sleep. I couldn't stop if I tried.

What significant things do you look for as you are writing? Are there any necessary standards for you?

I pull most of my significance from real life. For a woman of twenty-six, I have a surprising lot of experience to draw from. Then there's the experiences of others, the truth in nature, and the realities of science to be inspired by. Most of my poems, stories, or works of nonfiction start with something very small: a moment, an object, and image. Literature is like science--from something small it grows.

I set a very high standard for my own writing, using what I call "themeology" to define a good piece. Literature is all about themes, and using literary devices to emphasize and give significance to these themes. I try to infuse anything I write with images and other devices that reflect the piece's theme(s). To me, it's just not significant enough without it. Most of my favourite literary works are very themeatic, such as The Stone Angel, Tay John, and Bliss.

What unique aspects in your writing do you think stand out to others?

My pieces are generally bookended. To explain this, I can draw your attention to something completely random: Seinfeld. The self-proclaimed "show about nothing" usually started each episode with a seemingly insignificant event that, by the end of the episode became extremely significant. It added to the punchline. The same goes with what I write--I always try to bring it back to something I said in the beginning. There's usually a punchline there, perhaps not always funny, but always significant. I very much believe in the power of the first and last sentence/paragraph of a piece.

What motivates you to share your writing on DeviantART?

I am motivated by feedback. I give a lot of feedback, mostly to help, but I also know people will be more inclined to help you when they're returning the favour. I'm realistic that way. I don't look for pats on the back or compliments--I want clear, honest, and even scathing feedback. It's the only way I'm going to improve. I want to be published by established and respected literary journals; I'm not looking for online popularity.

Which piece featured is your favorite and why?

Most definitely, my favourite is "When Ostriches Fly." It's the piece that's closest to being publishable and it's a concept I came up with years ago and took a long time putting down on paper. It is most certainly themeatic with strong characters in clear dilemmas. To me, it's a good, relevant, and important story that needed to be told.

ATrue will also be joining us in the our TheLadiesofLit chatroom for a special critiquing session for her wonderful literary work. If there are any critiquing tips you would like to offer her toward any deviations that you have seen featured here today or others that interest you – this is the place to be on February 12th at 7pm EST! (What time is this for me?) And as an extra incentive: for those of who offer ATrue the best critiques, there will be a few extra goodies in store for you, so don't miss out!

Meet Our Contributors:

I want to express my gratitude toward everyone for all of the ongoing support of this project. I duly hope to see even more suggestions in the future. Also – those of you who did not see your deviations selected and posted in this article, they may be featured on the next one. We will have plenty of upcoming deviants to spotlight in the future. If you would like to be one of those, or to suggest others, feel free to note me and be sure to tell me what you love most about them and why these writers appeals to you. Do not be shy – get involved! The more suggestions I receive, the more writers that get featured. For now, check out our volunteers who sent in their features and offered assistance, and don't forget to thank them!