Write With Adora

the collected works of youth literati. read. write. publish.

Anonymous asked: I'm running out of books to read, so can you recommend me some? I don't really have a preference; I'm pretty much open for anything. And...I've been writing from quite a young age, but recently, I can't get myself to write anything because as soon as I write a couple sentences, I get frustrated at the quality. Can you give me advices on how to keep on writing even if you're not content with it?

Right now I’m reading a spate of novels and non-fiction; on the non-fiction end, “Sex and Social Justice” is an incredible read (if you’re into ethics and feminism), and on the fiction end, I loved the Game of Thrones first three books (it got a little too weird toward the end of the third haha) and Amor Towles’ NYTimes bestselling novel “The Rules of Civility.” 

How to keep writing…I like using crowdsourced accountability! That is, make a promise on a blog or on Facebook to write everyday and have people who keep tabs on it. It works wonders. :) 

Wash Those Hands by Deborah Finneran

Don’t put your hands in your mouth.
There are so many germs that live under your nails.
They have big long ears and short skinny tails.
They live on your hands and on your fingers too.
They like to travel around; those little critters do.
They go to your head through your mouth and your nose.
They travel with other germs that can live in your stomach and toes.
Biting your nails invites those germs in.
They know it’s an invitation to come in and swim.
So, don’t bite your nails and don’t pick your cute nose.
You never know when those germs will come and bring a big hose.
They think it’s a swim party and so in the mucus they play.
They’ll squirt more germs down your throat until your ears plug away.
You think you’re sick now, and feel like crying big tears.
So you tell your Mom about those germs in your nose and your ears.
Mom tells you to sleep as she sends you to bed.
All those germs have a big party while you rest your sweet head.
Then they decide, they had better not stay,
because they heard the doctor is coming their way.
They don’t like his medicine; “It Tastes Horrible” they say!
As you rest and be still, the germs start to leave.
They run out onto your tissues and sometimes your sleeves.
So don’t put your hands in your mouth or let those germs get too near.
Let them run down the drain while hand washing my dear.

“We’re All Equal” by Deborah Finneran

Some children are fast and some are slow.
Some are happy and some are sad.
Some are thin and some are heavy.
Some are short and some are tall.

We’re all equal though, just different don’t you know.

Some children have legs to take them around
Some children have wheels to spin on the ground (Child in wheelchair)
Some children are light and some are dark,
but almost all children like to play in the park.

We’re all equal though, just different don’t you know.

Some children seem smarter than others.
Some children need help and service from another.
Some children like to smile and play with dogs.
Some children are shy and like to play with frogs.

We’re all equal though, just different don’t you know.

Some children might walk different than you and I.
Some children might talk different than you and I.
Some children might dance different than you and I.
We just need to be given a chance to be different, you and I.

We’re all equal though, just different don’t you know.

Some things are the same and some things not at all.
The things that make us different are the things that we must show.
The beauty of God’s children is what lives inside us all.
We’re all beautiful though, just different don’t you know.

da Vinci’s Wish by Deborah Finneran

Oh that I could paint again
To hold a brush in hand
I’d stroke a pure white canvas
Showing the beauty I know at last

I wish I had the chance
To just paint for one more day
The wonders of this world beside
Elaborate now where I reside

Intricate dimensions
Never ending passions
Too brilliant to describe
Nothing would I hide

My brush would seize more meaning
Your senses would beseech
Much much more of me
Not a common man I’d be

To Live Yet - Fiona Ambrosio

If ever I had need of sin,

my sin would be for me to begin

to live, to laugh - to love in earnest,

to feel the sun on my face, to accept the mere existence of my yearnings.

And if I should find that I am mistaken,

I would remind you of the road not taken.

Life is for living! For our necessary pursuits.

And I know, that whatever the journey, I will have found my missing truth.

Anonymous asked: Do you ever watch any TV shows? My friend got me into Avatar the Last Airbender and Sherlock, the BBC version, both of which are fantastic. I've also come to realize that the best writing isn't always in the written word.

Yup, I love Sherlock too! And a lot of other shows. The skillful writing evident in everything from plays to games is great support for your point. :)

Flickering by Shaelin Bishop

the forever hush of december air
a choir of doves weaves flowers through my hair
and the softness of silence still and alone
the hush of the soul right down to the bone

the words of a poet on the back of my eyes
droplets of ink slowly blot out the skies
and the whisper of stillness fresh and alive
when your body is weak but your essences survives

the faeries of summer can build my bones up
binding the sinews with honey from a golden cup
and the forest of demons traps lives in his hands
the lights flicker out and darken these lands

Saved By The Wolves

Saved By The Wolves

A Short Story by Isabella Alvarez

 

How long had she been here? Eternity. She remembered the excitement she’d felt that morning, the crisp air slapping at her cheeks, glistening auburn hair pulled back in a tight braid, puffs of air shooting out in front of her. She remembered the way her sneakers became damp with the morning dew, how the shadows of the forest hadn’t worried her. How she was amazed at her quick getaway.

            She thought of the shimmering rays of light that peeked through the cracks in the tightly woven curtain of pine trees, with their earthy smell and feel. She remembered the thoughts that had raced through her mind: the wolves! I have to show everyone the wolves. She thought, disgusted at her self, of how she’d only looked up, towards the dawn sun, missing the crack in the ground right in front of her, half concealed by bronze autumn leaves. 

            Then the girl had fallen through, into a cave that she couldn’t seem to get out of. All she had were two blankets, a dying flashlight, and a box of granola bars. She didn’t know how far she’d fallen, or anything about the cave.

            She waited.

            For a sound, a light, anything. All she could hear was the heavy breathing coming from herself, an occasional rustle from her clothing being swished by the wind, and a constant drip from the water that came from an unseen crack above her head.

            She knew she’d be driven out of her mind very soon. She couldn’t survive, and the granola bars weren’t going to last forever. Days passed, perhaps a week, and she grew weaker. She barely had the strength to unwrap the last of her granola bars and chew and swallow it.

            About a week and a half had passed when she woke up from an uneasy ‘night’ of sleep. The girl opened her eyes to see two gleaming emerald circles staring at her. With a jolt of her heart she realized they were eyes.

            Who, or maybe what, did they belong to?

            Cautiously, she reached into backpack and pulled out the dim, flickering flashlight. The single shaft of light illuminated a rather furry figure.

            “Oh,” she breathed, and slowly powered the flashlight off. “Oh.” She huddled against the corner in a fetal position, whimpering; the last bit of any strength within her diminished.

            The wolf advanced. The girl froze.

            Suddenly, the wolf threw back its long muzzle, and let out a savage cry. It was echoed by the cave, but then continued past its natural fade-away point; it was eternal.

            At first the girl was confused. What was going on? What was this wolf trying to do? She looked up, and then it hit her: they, the wolves, were showing her a path out of the cave!

            A neat path of glowing eyes revealed the perfect way to escape from the cave. “Thank you,” the girl whispered, staring into the wolf’s eyes as she feebly got up, shakily put her meager belongings in her backpack, and slowly but steadily began to follow the eyes and the echo.

            The girl climbed, and become more confident as she did. She placed her feet carefully and quickly onto each rock or jutting-out boulder, and ignored the stinging pain that buzzed around her knees and elbows as she crawled on the gravely ground. She grew to love the echo with all her heart, and to find solace in every pair of eyes.

            It took a while to make it to the top, and once she was there, she looked down on the now-silent wolves. She stared into each of their eyes and made a silent promise: she would never tell anyone about the wolves.

            The girl pulled herself out of the slit with her last bit of strength and collapsed onto the crunchy leaves. As she world began to fade into inky darkness, she could hear, “We found her!” And maybe, just maybe, she might’ve heard a solemn parting howl. 

theatlantic:

Australia Is So Hot, They Had to Add a New Color to the Weather Map


See that deep purple in the middle of this acne-red weather report from Down Under? That right there represents 129.2° F or 54 °C — it’s a brand-new shade that the Australian bureau of meteorology was forced to add to its heat index because their country is, you know, kind of on fire. 
[…] To give you an idea of just how uncomfortable this Australian heatwave really is, consider that it’s just past midnight there right now … and it’s 95°F in Sydney. 
Read more. [Image: Australia Bureau of Meteorology] 

theatlantic:

Australia Is So Hot, They Had to Add a New Color to the Weather Map

See that deep purple in the middle of this acne-red weather report from Down Under? That right there represents 129.2° F or 54 °C — it’s a brand-new shade that the Australian bureau of meteorology was forced to add to its heat index because their country is, you know, kind of on fire. 

[…] To give you an idea of just how uncomfortable this Australian heatwave really is, consider that it’s just past midnight there right now … and it’s 95°F in Sydney

Read more. [Image: Australia Bureau of Meteorology]