NANOWRIMO TIME!

I've decided to actually do Nanowrimo this year and not just dream about it. Last year I was working on The Persian Door, so I felt like I'd be cheating if I used that for my nanowrimo project. Technically you're not suppose to be working on something you've already worked on before.

I also thought it might be fun to blog about my progress, or lack there of, having to confess to the might interwebs might keep me on track. At least for a little while. ;)

Add me on nanowrimo.org !! I'd love to check out what you're up to this November. My name is NeWiilson (not case sensitive).

Bye for now!

P.S.
My progress so far has been rocky. I was behind but I got my shit together and I'm back on track. It's hard to go from writing a mysterious/adventurous young adult novel to writing something for an audience that appreciates dark humor. The good news is, I like it a lot better than I thought I would. Although, I have just started.

-N

Mrs. Wilson, where you been?

Around the world, now I'm back again!

Ok, not really. That's a Lil' Wayne quote...
 
But here's the dealio: Finished my novel in Febuary,  graduated from college in July, got married in August, landed a sweet freelance job in September with hyperinkpress.com, then got a second job at a music store in Ocotber. That's what I've been up to in a nutshell.

Also, I decided to revamp Pens Without Ink. It was getting stale and people seemed disinterested. So I shook it all up like a snow globe and now we have a years schedule for the writing club with lots of fun/no stressful stuff.

I almost forgot, I got a guinea pig, whom I ADORE, nammed Fitzgerald Darcy.
He humbly goes by Darcy, Darcy-Pants, or Guin-Guin san which is his Japanese name...

-N

Midnight Breeze

The deep roar
of thunder,
the clash of white
doesn't bother me
as I gaze out my
window, breathing
in the rich smells
of rain hitting
leaves of grass.

I still catch
my breath
when i see
the the lightning
shimmer like
handfuls of thrown
diamonds, then
vanish like the wake
of a dream.



-N (June 28, 1999; age thirteen)

Landfill Poem

I'm in a geology class. We had a landfill field trip today. For extra credit I pimped out my skills as a writer and wrote the dreaded "extra-credit" poem. (and yes I did include what I 'learned' in the class in my poem, it's all true fact, I swear! No really clovers to apparently grow on landfills after their capped off full). Even more alarming, I actually like it so much I thought I'd share it with you, #twitterverse. :) Please comment and tell me I'm not a loser or you can re: with your own impromptu landfill poem. Either way it's win-win.

Ottawa County Landfill

Up the graveled dirt we trudged,

us would be geologists; past

metal fridges and tire halves

while the turkey-vultures swoop

in circles way above.

I saw the tall cattails sway

in mucky brown slush; and

heard the horn of a

tall truck pass, filled to

the brim with methane muck;

and the landfills worth will

mostly never be known

above the grass caped trash

where sweet green clovers

grow.

Try for Me, by N.E.Avery

Try for Me

This is the voice you’ve given me: yes sir. right away sir.

This is the face you’ve given me: black.

This is the lie you’ve told about me: abortion is my number one killer.

This is how you’ve broken a race: turned us against ourselves.

Now, my eyes are open.

You pin me down and scrap me clean of ambitions

if I fight back you lapel me “viscous”;

Truth be told, it is my fault; 

I’ve allowed myself in your web to be caught

Now, my thoughts must be spoken.

I’ve gotta try

try

try

try for me.