My Writing Playground

a personal and inspirational blog, full of my creations and others' creations

Month: January, 2015


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How to Be Alone

This is beautiful

Found thanks to Tumblr

From Hank Green on Tumblr

“A novel worth reading…

“A novel worth reading is an education of the heart. It enlarges your sense of human possibility, of what human nature is, of what happens in the world. It’s a creator of inwardness.”
— Susan Sontag, The Art of Fiction No. 143 (via bookshavepores) from LoftLiteraryCenter on Tumblr

“But I don’t want small talk…

“But I don’t want small talk. Text me, and without saying hello, tell me why you got so angry at your sister this morning. Tell me why you have a scar shaped like Europe on the left side of your neck. Send me paragraphs about the time you spent at your grandmother’s house that one summer. Call me when I’m half asleep and tell me why you believe in God. Tell me about the first time you saw your dad cry. Go on for hours about things that may not seem important because I promise that I’ll be hanging on to every word you say. Tell me everything. I don’t want someone who just talks about the weather.”
endlessfreethrows on Tumblr

“Who we are and who we become depends…

“Who we are and who we become depends, in part, on whom we love.”
– A General Theory of Love


Found at Brain Pickings here.

The Holstee Manifesto: An Inspirational Video

An attempt to define success and provide inspiration:

More about the Holstee Manifesto on Brain Pickings.

Relationship goals

tumblr_newwdafjiN1s3wiq8o5_500 tumblr_newwdafjiN1s3wiq8o4_500 tumblr_newwdafjiN1s3wiq8o7_500

From BreakingYourLevy on Tumblr

Fictitious Dishes, by Brain Pickings



A wonderful collection of pictures of fictitious meals. I suppose I’ll never grow out of playing dollhouse if I become a writer, will I?


To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee, 1960


Oliver Twist by Charles Dickens, 1837


The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald, 1925

See more here at Brain Pickings.

Prison Stories

a poem

I found you, you glistening
jewel of story, accidentally
while I was clearing away a path
in this dark prison with my pen
nothing to sense but the gray
silence and the echoing
darkness that embraces me. I write to free
the observer inside of me
that wants to go out on an African safari
or eat Italian-spiced salami
or watch that violent movie
everyone seemed to like.

I’m wary. Emptiness
can suck away your consciousness,
says my empty prison walls.
I stop listening and focus on telling my
observing mind my story. I explore
the hidden depths of my memory
conversations I had, or I wish I had,
or that I regret, with loved ones and hated
ones and ones I never really
noticed until now. This is the time
for attention to intricacies, to the small
characters that played a part in my life, now
that I am off stage mumbling
lines to myself, hoping
someday I will say them on stage
without falter