imaginative-lioness is holding her Literature Roadtrip 2.0 in just a couple of days and I thought I'd roundup the interviews of Interview Week.
First Interview (Day 1): imaginative-lioness interviews the truly amazing WeirdAndLovely:
Literature Roadtrip Interview Week: Day 1 In this interview she talks about her favorite part of the literature community, how she would encourage others to get involved with the literature community, as well as deviants she believes deserve more attention to their works. It's a really fun read and for those that don't know, WeirdAndLovely is one of the best writers around. She writes with unadulterated passion and emotion.
Welcome, welcome! This is the beginning of the Literature Roadtrip Interview Week, and I hope it will introduce you all to a wonderful group of deviants, as well as prepare you for the five day Literature Roadtrip from January 10th to January 14th.
I would like to introduce you all to the fantastic WeirdAndLovely. Her work is seriously amazing, you will not be disappointed when you search through her gallery. I urge you all to choose one of her pieces and give it a comment. Perhaps add a couple to your favourites. Or add her to your watch. You will not be disappointed, I can assure you.
What is your favourite part of the literature community?
All the wonderful writing! I love how supportive we are to each other. I think it’s great that people have developed huge support sy
Second Interview (Day 2): imaginative-lioness couldn't get in contact with her second scheduled interviewee so she held a truly wonderful literature feature for the second day as a substitute. The incredible pieces and talented writers included are:
younghabitat - brokengod--veins -
midnight aches and inside strangersevery night pomohippie7 - :thumb423616751: escap-ing -
I wake up to strangers
kept in the
depths of my
of the fears
the dearest dreams
these are the cups
in my sorrows
in the riverbed
of a throat
from the vine garden
They are the ones
in my blood
shuddering my bones
There's no fright.
only a contortionist
folding and unfolding
in my chest
while the moon
my sky's pendant,
and just listens.
a jar of not-quite-nothingA jar to catch fireflies. Lady-Yume -
A simple enough concept:
wait for the twilight hours
stay alert for twinkling yellow
then, give chase.
The problem was my aim
(or rather, my lack thereof.
Plus, I didn't really like bugs
I never caught any. And yet,
the jar overflows with
childish peals of laughter
summer air, ever-blowing
wisps of evening cloud
and the light from the stars.
If I look at that jar from
just the right angle,
I can still see it alight with angel glow:
the bright, twinkling
of firefly light.
Valley of the Butterfliesjesse, Zeidah8254 -
sometimes you have to let go
of monsters and magic and guns
from the depths
of raven's garden,
let the music fill the night;
a river of time
for those slipping into the background,
let me fly like a bird
fetching the summer lady
in the valley of the butterflies.
Ode to Fred WeasleyRed hair and freckles, incredibly tall- mattbearcat -
you were no doubt a Weasley boy.
But unlike your brothers Charlie and Bill,
you had your very own twin.
You were never found alone.
George was always at your side.
Beaters for Qudditch and owners of shop-
the two of you were peas in a pod.
There's no reason to be ashamed.
You used your skills wisely.
Prefect and Head Boy- they weren't for you.
Your passion laid in inventing and jokes.
Umbridge- that woman who made kids cry
Her punishments were so heartless.
She took your broom, but she still failed.
Your fireworks spectacle won the crowd.
Oh, why did you have to die in vain?
Those Death Eaters don't deserve to live.
They will rot in Askaban,
and the world will morn your death.
MonsterEver since I could remember Inazumi-chan - :thumb424405370: SilverInkblot -
Everything inside of me
Just wanted to fit in
As I take a stand
To escape what is inside me
A monster, growing stronger
As I try and bring it down
Fighting what lay within
As I see it all in my eyes
All the hurt and left behind
As I am a monster to some
And a savior to others
For I’m a monster, a beast
Within the dark inside me
As all I am refuses to settle in
And I clear my continence unlike the rest
Though I am only a man with a candle to guide me
To see me through
Though I don’t want to hide the truth
If I seem dangerous to you
It is not entirely untrue
As I am definitely different from you
TibetI found a poem Vanelopes-corner -
caught between your knucklebones
like a prayer flag.
Suit Of ArmorWhat people see on my outside nattrozanska -
Isn't really me.
It's just a suit of armor
With a welded smile.
What people see on my outside
Isn't who I am.
I say things I don't believe,
And hide the things I like.
What people see on my outside
Isn't how I feel.
I laugh and joke and play,
But I'm alone in a crowd.
So before you're quick to judge me
Because what you see on my outside
Probably isn't me.
LacunaI wish there was a way to say nothing over distance littleblueraccoon -
to curl up and fold into you silently
without a word scarring my lungs,
To share heavy air
when language won’t do
and physicality can’t be,
I wish there was a word
I could say to you
to encompass all those looks,
I wish there was a written symbol
to mean the warmth of your flesh on mine,
I wish I could say everything to you
without any words
but you’re too far away.
the heroin heroinehow can you save someone OmnomnomSquirl -
with tattoos and track marks?
they called him Jesse
and I loved him, I loved him
too much for my own good.
he was a burnt-out angel
with weathered grandfather wings
and an aluminum halo.
"please," I begged, incessant,
"please, stop. you're better than this."
I wrestled with his addiction
as though it was my own,
destroyed syringes straight from
the crook of his elbows.
I always knew he had one true love,
and it sure wasn't me.
his arm was pale and thin
around my shoulders,
pale and thin in the masquerade lamplight,
where he pierced his veins
in belt-constricted solitude.
one night, as I paced
with his bent silver spoon
clutched in my palms,
he told me that he needed it,
oh God, he needed it.
he needed that one slow descent
into black oblivion, that one place
where nothing existed to hurt him.
for the first time,
I realized my place.
whenever he kissed me,
he thought not of my lips,
not of my tongue.
he thought of a cool chill,
lipsi kissed lips forestmeetwildfire -
when they smiled
and lied through
she was and now she isn'tit's full of promises - beeinthebottle - Tales-of-Tao -
death with a limited life span.
if I go as far
there isn't just one
or just one
all that remains is
misplaced feelings of pity -
she's just a vague sketch,
someone who ceased to exist.
all that remains
is to disappear
shall i read your palm?father-daughter whisked away 1nkl1ng -
by a somber autumn's brush.
dripping with misfortune,
it casts shadows on lullabies
with a lacking-light of sorrow.
oh, widow-toddler glossy-eyed
i've spotted nuanced undertones of
hospital chapels and lillies
highlighting cancer-mottled flesh
as this family
draws its lonely breath.
i see you
unpolished treasures slipping
through your ring-less fingers.
is she the en memoriam
you think you just can't stand?
curling in the life line
of your not-yet empty hand:
your precious baby girl.
Chasefor you i would catch summer toxic-nebulae -
like a teen catching glory on a lean silver bicycle-
ripping through the streets of Triumph and Nostalgia
as if i could conquer or escape each one
and rise- rise- rise with the reddening
of your cheek as it mirrors our desire-
i will chase you until my starving hands
can feel no curves; until my eyes cannot contain
the bursting of your colours like parachutes on a stale
blue sky; until my mouth no longer tastes the days of August
on your lips-
your season lingers
like a haze in the sahara:
some oversaturated mirage,
or maybe just a miracle
that winked out too fast.
gauntletI used you all up. EternalSunday -
there is grit in my teeth.
I'm still not done picking you out,
casting my tongue around my mouth
for one last useless piece.
when I find it, I will swallow
and rid myself forever
of the taste of you.
somehow, we make it feel like enoughi. nawkaman -
there's a stand-still in your head, quiet rainfall
before lightning strikes,
you wait for release, the rumbling,
the words fall away when you open your mouth
to speak, and i struggle to meet
i keep waiting for a turning point, a full frontal crash
into a brick wall; but you were right,
it's more like quicksand.
you can't feel the sharpness of change until it's already drowned you.
we sit back, listen to the storm raging on,
disconnected, yet hopeful.
i almost died once, and if i had
my last words would have been,
no, it's fine, i'm alright.
if the same thing happened now, the only words
escaping my mouth would be, if only,
that feels worse.
it's the same city, but in the morning hours
the streets feel like they belong in a far away country.
you tell me one day you want to explore, and i'm already
putting pins on a map,
everywhere, anywhere. but later when shadows fall from the pins
and the circles ar
The River RamblesWe cut each other halflong (simple TheChesherCat -
cell division) to find answers;
nothing spills out and nothing
floods in and nothing
It is a bleak burden, this
stargazer syndrome, near-sighted symphonic
strangers sipping endless streams of data
exchanging bits and bytes in and of the void.
Dark chasmal pockets
full of doubt, full of fever and strife;
we odds and end-less ebbs flow
back to the sea
as we are teased by landfall.
Covering Uplight used to radiate TwilightPoetess -
from her smile.
now I only see
a shiny streak
of slick sickness.
like she's wearing down.
Winter PoisonTo the boy with ghost hands: ratikification -
the best we can do is pretend.
The breakers will always call us home
but you don't feel the poison--it drips, it drips
like a bad habit.
We are fragile.
Bury me in white
under the winter moon.
Clear WindsOh decadence, play onto drudgery. ClaireMcWolf -
My face feels palms against my cheek,
Some arms around my shoulders, please,
And a mattress beneath my knees.
My soul lacks sprouts to sway,
Fear of being too active.
But a bother to stand still for tomorrow and the day after
Waiting as more life happens.
A sound so sweetly sore.
The wind to carry.
What is your taste?
I want to know
Maybe we can drift together.
Are we light enough?
Today is particularly windy.
So take a strand of my hair and
Twine it around your finger
Let our thoughts vibrate through my locks,
Like a sound wave.
You ask me questions that I only have to
Reply yes or no,
And others tell me things I should know.
I find growing fear
Am I blind
Or are you just clear?
Drowning in Dark WatersThis deep darkness in my soul, the darkness I do not show; fervvent - :thumb424421371: ilovegonger137 -
Is slowly eating away at me: I deny this darkness so much, too much;
But no matter how much I deny it, it's here, inside me, lurking;
And because of it;
It has penetrated my heart and soul, with many painful scars;
Every single one of my dreadful scars has caused ticks to me;
Changing how I feel, think, speak;
Yet I do nothing, say nothing;
My soul: A pool of swirling darkness within me;
Filled with all my lies and secrets;
Much sorrow, much regret, much pain;
And my heart, my heart is a piece of parchment;
Drifting mindlessly through this pool;
Falling apart: slowly, painfully remorsefully;
No one cares enough to notice, this poor, dim-witted piece of parchment;
The worst part is no matter how hard others try;
It's all over for the parchment;
It will never be the same again, and there will be yet another scar on the parchment;
Despite all the late efforts to save it, from the ones who thought they knew me, cared for me;
The ForestThe trees bend down to me, Chrysalite -
Their branches calling me,
Be with us they say,
Every night, every day.
I stay here all night,
Enjoying the sight,
As the moon shines bright,
I smile at the sky,
And hear the lullaby and a small cry.
The forest welcomes me,
I prance around happily,
This place I will forever stay,
In my own world a ways away.
UndineIf I could live a thousand years, lives turning into melancholy streams of light around me, Poet-of-all-Art -
I could listen to the whispers of birch branches by the misty river without crying,
I would be strong enough to resist following feathers in the eye of the storm.
I know the tongues of fire of dragons behind forbidden doors.
I know the mayflies dying in the thousands by the roadside.
I know the shape of my soul from the wounds on my side.
If I could stop turning to the Devil to heal him with my hands,
If I could cease listening to the songs of the searing flames,
I could shoot down the bird that survived the crusades.
Though the smoke in my lungs makes it hard to breathe,
And the howling of the wolves drowns the words,
I cannot unsee the dreams of the seers.
this is not a goodbyeI have nothing left to do here-- tirasunil -
no one to listen to,
and nobody with an open ear,
to hear me whisper
morals and poems forgotten,
taken by the petitioners,
they took everything;
took even my empty shell,
and sure I lamented:
I cursed greedy hands:
the hands that wanted
more than their cross,
the one that my children carry,
but it's a loss,
all of it.
So I leave now,
all of the pieces and bits,
nothing left on me
except the clothes on my back,
but not eyes for me to see,
see the changes the world brings
and beside the damned society,
you can hear bells ring
but only after you pay the fare
to get into heaven.
(I'm not sure if you were aware
but heaven's toll booth prices rise
like the amount of the dead)
I have no advice,
as I mentioned earlier,
there was no one listening anyways--
than the big man up there himself;
who still won't lower those prices.
I'll leave you by yourself
to figure out
where you stand in this world;
a world full of doubt,
dear emma:this morning, i woke up beside my dog. now, don't get me wrong, i love malcolm, just not like that (grey bastard takes up all the covers). thysilverdoe -
i'm so used to waking up next to a beautiful sleeping lioness, stretched out to catch the sun's first rays, and i missed that.
i figured metaphors were a direct line to your heart, but i know jacob, i bet he doesn't put your soul on paper. he probably just snickers when you get that far-off look in your eye, like you see god somewhere out there.
well, perhaps this is just a love note but i can finish strong -- i always did : emma, i love you more than this stupid dog loves your old pillow, and that's a lot.
actually, scratch that: i love you more than you love your new pillow, wherever it is, because your new pillow isn't beside mine, honey.
come back please,
circular conversationyou are always right
i am always wrong
always moves the same
circles, one day i'm
going to make it
pull the line of me out
of the equation
let you keep your triangle.
Third Interview (Day 3) imaginative-lioness interviews the very talented and totally lovable saltwaterlungs, as well as the fantastic and influential DrippingWords:
Literature Roadtrip Interview Week: Day 3 This double interview is a truly great read and look into how these two wonderful deviants view this great site and our awesome literature community. Caitlan (DrippingWords) and Hannah (saltwaterlungs) are both very heartfelt writers with wonderful knacks for creating some great, poignant imagery in their poetry.
Welcome back to the Literature Roadtrip Interview Week! Yesterday, I didn't have an interview for you, but today I have two! I am excited to introduce you all to these wonderful deviants, as I love them so damn much.
Firstly, saltwaterlungs - formerly NonsenseQueen - is an excellent deviant. Her work is seriously fantastic, and you will not be disappointed when you search through her gallery.
What is your favourite way to get involved in the literature community?
I love joining groups. I almost obsessively sift through teh groups here and try to join as many as possible, because I believe that each group holds something special. Whether it be really great prompts or great people, there's always some element to each gorup that makes me want to become a part of the family.
How do you go about getting feedback on your work?
As I said
Fourth Interview (Day 4) imaginative-lioness interviews one of the most adorable and wonderful-est ladies ever in the truly fantastic IrrevocableFate:
Literature Roadtrip Interview Week: Day 4 In this spectacular interview you see how one of the most well-established and esteemed writers (And people) on the site goes about her business here. It’s always great to get insight from such an experienced (Not to mention lovely) deviant such as this. She uses emotive language so well. Stephany is simply one of the finest story-tellers on deviantART.
Sorry this interview is a little late (like a day), I went out for dinner last night with a couple of friends and when I got back home I was so exhausted that I put on Star Trek: The Next Generation and fell asleep to the beautiful voice of Captain Picard. Anyway! This interview was meant for yesterday, and today's interview will be posted tonight. Okay.
I would like to introduce to you all, IrrevocableFate. Have you been to her gallery? Have you? If you haven't you are seriously missing out, because you would be definitely amazed by the work that she has posted. Trust me.
What is your favourite part of the literature community?
The people, hands down. The deviants here are what truly make the community and they're such a wonderful, diverse group that it's amazing. Amazing. I've always met and come across such fabulous people who do so much, they comment,
Fifth Interview (Day 5) imaginative-lioness interviews….me, chromeantennae:
Literature Roadtrip Interview Week: Day 5 I’m featured here as the "fifth" interviewee for LR Interview Week and in this discussion I try to shed some light for some lesser-known writers to get more attention to their works, my interview series ‘Adjusting The Antennae,’ some of my greatest influences on this site as well as some truly spectacular writers who I felt deserve more attention. Please check this out and see if you guys see any pieces, interviews of mine, or deviants you like from this interview.
And hello again! Welcome back to Literature Roadtrip Interview Week, how are you enjoying it so far? Have you visited the deviants mentioned? Added them to your watch? Searched through their galleries, perhaps favourited some of their work? I hope so.
Now, I would like to introduce you to chromeantennae - though, if you haven't met him yet you must be seriously living under a rock. He is the nicest, sweetest and kindest person on deviantART, and his gallery is amazing. You could not get a better deviant.
What made you want to start 'Adjusting the Antennae?
What made me want to start ‘Adjusting The Antennae’ was a multitude of things, honestly. I had a great deal of inspirations coming from
Sixth Interview (Day 6) imaginative-lioness interviews the extremely influential and supremely talented BloodshotInk:
Literature Roadtrip Interview Week: Day 6 In this truly fantastic interview Kathryn talks about the different groups she's a part of, what she does to get involved with the literature community, how to get more feedback on your works (With an extremely helpful article for those that don't know!), and the artists she feels deserve more attention. Definitely an amazing read on a truly wonderful deviant.
Once again, I am late to post this interview. But I promise you all that apart from square dancing (yeah, I know), I have been working hard getting everything for Literature Roadtrip 2.0 ready. So, I've been very productive. This just means that you'll get two wonderful interviews today, and that tomorrow is… OFFICIALLY THE LITERATURE ROADTRIP!
BloodshotInk is an absolutely amazing deviant. Her work is beyond inspiring and beautifully written. And she is incredibly nice and kind to everyone in the literature community. Plus, her profile page looks awesome, I'm insanely jealous!
How do you get involved in the literature community?
*Looks blank for a minute* Gosh. Uh. I don't know. I have a variety of different things I play with. I do features, interviews, I help out on groups. I like to run competitions. I've been running l
Seventh Interview (Day 7) imaginative-lioness interviews the wonderfully kind, quirky, and multi-talented camelopardalisinblue:
Literature Roadtrip Interview Week: Day 7 In this final interview to cap off what's been a truly fantastic week of interviews, Dawni speaks about her favorite part of this literature community, how she would change certain parts she didn't care for (And I completely agree with her.), as well as deviants she feels deserve more attention and eyes on their works. It's a truly wonderful final interview heading into the Literature Roadtrip.
Annnnnddddd here we are, the final interview of the Literature Roadtrip Interview Week. I was immensely excited for this week, and despite a few days where I have been busy causing a few interviews to be late, I am pretty happy with it. I loved learning about these seven deviants.
So, the last deviant I want to introduce to you all is camelopardalisinblue. I've had the pleasure of talking to this lovely deviant a few times, she is one of the nicest people I have talked to on deviantART. Plus, her work is incredible. If you haven't checked out her gallery, I am seriously disappointed in you!
What is your favourite part of the literature community?
I think the close-knit feeling there is. Perhaps it's just me, but I feel like people in the literature community here on deviantArt tend to pull together a lot more despite wide gaps between skill levels and such. We
Please, if you can, show us all some love, the writers listed here in this and be on the lookout for imaginative-lioness’ Literature Roadtrip 2.0, that officially begins on the 10th of January. Support your fellow writers by faving the interviews; watching, llama-ing, the interviewees; and faving and commenting on all featured writers' pieces.
We're on the bandwagon folks! And imaginative-lioness is leading the charge, make sure you have some snacks and a change of clothes 'cause we're moving all over dA on a literature roadtrip!
And remember! You're all beautiful, amazing, and incredible! Yes, YOU.