7 Words You Should Delete From Your Manuscript

“In this post, I’ve included a few words that most professional writers and editors will cut as often as possible. You can use this post as a guide to identify overused words in your own writing and cut them out to make your work clearer and more concise.”

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Book Review: “H Is For Hawk” by Helen Macdonald

“H is for Hawk” is currently causing an uproar in the British literary world, achieving mountains of acclaim from critics and fellow writers on both sides of the pond. I first found out about it through BrainPickings, a weekly digest of assembled blog posts that thematically explores famous thinkers and works through the use of quotes, relevant…

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Devotional: Peasants

Friday. I count the hours in every weekend, wasting them as surely as I waste breath. My generation’s mantra, “live life to the fullest”, a product of the post-WWI attitude of “eat, drink, and be merry, for tomorrow we die,” and the roaring growth of the Baby Boomers, has left me obsessed with material things, questing…

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I Am Fire

Great granitic catacombs, hollowed out by flame rust inside my soul. Magma cracks through the crust of my earth, smoking. Metal, molten, seethes at my core; the history of my formation, tumultuous, written in every layer of my skin. Black ash spouts from my mouth, volcanic, I erupt, bursting, spitting, lashing, lava tongues and rocky…

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[Untitled]: A Poem

I wrote this poem spur of the moment, as a very dear friend of mine recounted the many ways he loves his fiance. I am so honored to be a part of their story, and to my readers, I cannot honestly recount how deeply their story made me feel, for there are no words to…

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And It Rained: A Poem

Slake my thirst, Dirty green of desert oaks, Grey like ash, You brittle clouds, Waiting to break. Tear in the sky, You will sing Against my psalms. I open My hands To you.     — Here in Paso Robles, it doesn’t rain a lot. But I was born and raised in a different part…

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Between Two Mountains: A Poem

I never thought I’d be the silly writer Who would dare to utter the cliche ‘Your lips were the color of sky’. But here I am, And to say otherwise would be a lie. The sky tonight for perhaps a minute and a half Was the same color as the gunmetal chill Of your lips…

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Don’t Think For A Moment That You Meant Nothing: A Poem

Don’t think for a moment that you meant nothing You were as the sun that lifts the fog. You were as a breath of wind that moves a dune of sorrow And carries it to the seas. Don’t think for a moment that you meant nothing You were a raindrop against the veined leaf Magnifying…

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You And I: A Poem

Fingers to the candle Moth to the flame Visions of another life A different kind of pain. A canyon in the alley Between these crowded streets A thousand faces dissipate Hidden in deceit. You and I, ephemeral– Were petrol in the rain Shimmering reflections I’ll never see again. And though that day has fallen With…

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A Poem: Thirst

Never would Thoreau have thought That one day, the sight of a simple creek Would be so rare, so strange, so uncommon That it might bring tears to the eyes of a passer-by As I was. Thirsty, Awestruck by the green grass, the minnows flickering The crinkled sound of water dripping over grey rock A…

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