You and Me

On the first day of the world

You stapled me to the floorboards

Too busy watching the stars

To see me bleeding at your feet,

Too far away for me to touch your peach skin

But close enough that I could smell your dandelion scent.

I am still here, as are you,

Though an eternity has passed,

Long enough for your hair

To tumble out the window

And weave among the constellations,

Long enough for your blown breath

To spin the worlds upon their axis

And give life to dirt,

Long enough for my blood to turn to rubies

That catch enough starlight for you to turn

And see Me.


Sometimes, I just want to write. To find some quiet corner or hole where nobody will see me or hear me and just release my imagination to eat away the paper until the holes left behind sprout words of such brilliance that, when I finally hold them up to the light, they look like stars.

But then reality strikes. I am reminded by my culture and my country and my friends and my family and myself that writing will not pay my bills, will not fill my fridge, will not ensure my comfort when I am older, and is something that people do in an attempt to avoid getting a real job. So I force myself out of my hole and go to work and when I come back to my paper, blank and whole and lifeless, I’m left wondering if anything I want to write will be worth it and, if it is, if life will let me finally write it.

But, every once and a while, I stare life in the face, lift my chin in defiance, and insist that I shall be a writer, that my words will burn through people’s souls and leave them wishing my stories were reality. And I sit and I write and I dream of the day when that is all I will have to do, when I will surround myself with books and maps and figurines in my home and type until my fingers bleed, and then type some more, because that is how you make a story. You create something and, when it is finally good enough, you cut it away so others can bleed with you.

– Katelyn Gentner, Future Novelist

Discarded Light

So, I recently wrote the poem Ink Dreams for an assignment in my poetry class (Yup, I’m taking a poetry class this semester. You are hereby warned of the incoming poetry), and I’ve gotten a great reception from you all. The assignment was to write a poem with this prompt: “_____ drips from______ fingers while they sleep.” In addition to Ink Dreams, I wrote one other poem and I have decided to send it out to you for feedback. It is a little less refined than Ink Dreams, but that is mainly because I am not sure what to do next. Enjoy!


Sunlight drips from your fingers while you sleep

Past the hangnails, the torn fingertips,

The clinging ingrained dirt

Pooling on the floorboards,

Rippling over the discards of your life,

That have attained so fine a layer of dust

That it floats when you open the window to elicit a breeze

In your stagnant body.

You lay in the middle of your circle of sunlight

But cling to the darkness under your pillow,

Basking in the shadows

And fearing the light.

Ink Dreams

Ink drips from my fingers while I sleep

Dropping onto a lake of words

That flows down a river

Of Consonants and Vowels

To pool onto my notepad.

Words bloom into bloody flowers

That grow in a man’s abandoned ribcage

And are trampled underfoot

By wolves that feast upon children’s nightmares

And cuddle with the victims of their prey.

In the morning it dries

And I am left

With a blank page.

Advice 2

So, I had to give up on NanoWrimo. School decided that this semester wasn’t quite hard enough, so it procured three research papers and a creative writing portfolio for me to put together and then lumped on top of the pile of misfortune two final cumulative exams on the same day.


So, I have a partly finished novel that I am forced to put aside until the semester stops dogging my heels. In the mean time, I am also taking a larger hiatus from here. Don’t worry, it is only three weeks. I will be back before you know it. I do, however, want to offer this to you until then.

So, my creative writing professor here at college is Dr. Robert Vivian, a man who walks around the world in perpetual wonder. He is amazing and offers some of the best advice when it comes to writing that I have ever received. This is my third semester in a row with him and I regret nothing except that I have taken all of his creative writing classes and can no longer continue (though, I am currently trying to devise a way to change that… we shall see). His curiosity about the world can never be fulfilled and he is continually astonished by the beauty he is surrounded by.

Seriously. You may think I am exaggerating, but I am not in the slightest. He refuses to hold his creative writing in a normal classroom because he feels his mind is too confined and moves them permanently to a corner in the library where we are surrounded by books and that unique smell they give off or the basement of the chapel where occasionally piano music drifts through the floorboards as we work. He offers assignments where he simply gives us a list of characteristics and asks us to write a story where they are all included, has us create a fictional town and then insists we propagate characters to fit inside, takes us outside to sit in the sunlight on the lawn and write about a ray of light on some object, or sends us on a scavenger hunt for the last half of the class period to find the oldest book in the library and then write about it (by the way… I highly suggest you do these prompts. They are quite engaging.).

So, I have decided to share a bit of his wisdom with you. He is a firm believer that writing comes from a place of other, a dream space that sends us inspiration to the point where we are simply a conduit of words and phrases to place upon the page… sound familiar? Yeah… kind of like my theory about my Muse. That probably explains why I like him so much. The following link is a paper he wrote about the writing process and I do hope you will take the time to read it. He wrote it several years ago, but it is still relevant to what he teaches and the writing process in general. He explains his theory in more detail within and I think it will help those of you who are actually managing to finish NanoWrimo or simply write and are looking for some new inspiration/writing advice.



This is a link to some good writing advice. I know, I’m due for you to read some of my reading, but the pieces I’ve been working on aren’t quite ready for public viewing. They’ll be done soon, but in the interim I thought I would give you something to check out.

I think that, of all the advice given in this, the most important is that writing is a baring of your soul. Every character, every impossibility, every suggestion was deliberately placed upon the page and contains a piece of you inside. The characters, I feel, are even more like this. Whenever I create a character, I place a piece of myself inside of them to ground myself in their reality. They are real the moment I place them upon the page because they are me in some form. It’s important to remember this not only when writing but also when reading. Delicacy is always important when critiquing a work, as it is special to the writer.

So… yup. That is my thought for the day. If all goes well I will actually have one of my pieces finished soon to let you look at, but at the rate they are going the page length is going to be ridiculous. I might just have to think of something else to post.

I’m Single And I’m Okay With That

One of the most frequent questions I get at family gatherings concerns my relationship status or, more specifically, my lack thereof. Just this weekend, we had a family party at my parent’s house and I invited some of my friends to join in the fun, two of whom were guys. Every time I mentioned that they were coming, I got the apparently inevitable question: “Is he your boyfriend?” And this isn’t restricted to just women; my cousin just turned 30 and at a recent funeral he came up to me and said, “If one more person asks why I’m not married yet, I’m going to go crazy.” I mean, it’s horrible that my friend got a significant other and told me that the best part (besides how he is a great person) was that the questions, and pity, regarding her single state had finally stopped.

You would think that I would have accepted that this is the way society works, but I haven’t. In fact, I get increasingly irritated every time this happens. I hide behind the excuse that I want to focus on my studies or I’m just waiting for someone intelligent, but that really isn’t the case. I’m not choosing to be single, it is just the way things are working right now. And I’m okay with that. When I meet the right guy, I’ll get into a relationship and things will work out as they will, but because I am 20 and have absolutely no experience in relationships, I have to deal with the consequences.

What consequences, you ask? Sadly, there are a couple. Most of it has to do with pity. I tell them that I don’t have a boyfriend and I get the look, like a twisted version of puppy eyes resulting from my lack of romance. The look is quickly followed by condolences, where I get the repeated lines that everyone says as if they lack any originality in conversation or they lack the ability to think outside of the constraints of the dating conditions society sets upon us. “It’s okay, it’s better to focus on college anyway… You don’t want a boyfriend, boys suck… When the right guy comes along, things will work out… I don’t understand how that’s possible, you have such a great personality. Well, don’t worry about it, I’m sure the right guys just hasn’t come along yet.” Thanks for making me feel okay with my single status… because, clearly, I wasn’t before. Remember how we got on this topic? Oh, yeah… you asked me if I had a boyfriend yet because being a college student necessarily equals having relationships.

As a result of my continuously repetitious answers, assumptions about my sexual orientation have sprung up over the years, both in my family and in my age group. I would like to point out that a lack of relationship does NOT equate liking people of the same sex. It just bothers me that this is the natural course of thinking about anyone who is single for a long period of time. Who are you to lump a perceived thought upon me about who I may and may not like? If I like boys, then fine. I like them, I’ll date them, whatever. If I like girls, then the same will happen. Why does being single mean that something must be different about me? Why is any explanation needed at all? Is it so odd that I am taking some time to live alone and discover who I am? Why do I need a boyfriend in order to be happy with my life and my accomplishments?

But the absolute worst part of being single all these years? I came to believe them. Society brainwashed me well enough that I believed that something was wrong with me because no guy had asked me out. It has taken my years to recover from my sense of inadequacy, and this is not okay. There is no reason that anyone should fell like a lesser human being because they cannot find a significant other. I don’t care if you are ugly or pretty, an introvert or an extrovert… if you are single, that is okay. As long as you are happy with who you are and the direction your life is headed, then it will work out one way or another.

I implore you to keep this in mind next time you ask anyone about their love life and they reply with “I’m single.” Try to break the cycle. Instead of asking about their love life, ask what they have accomplished, what they are proud of, what landmarks they have crossed in their life lately. There is more to life than simply a person’s love life. Let’s break this chain.


Well… that’s my rant on my irritation with society. Sorry, I know it doesn’t follow with my usual trend, but I just couldn’t hold it in anymore. I’ll be back to my usual schedule of posting in around two weeks, so thanks for continuing to follow me!