#writing
Tips for Writing a Difficult Scene
Every writer inevitably gets to that scene that just doesn’t want to work. It doesn’t flow, no matter how hard you try. Well, here are some things to try to get out of that rut:
1. Change the weather
- I know this doesn’t sound like it’ll make much of a difference, but trust me when I say it does.
- Every single time I’ve tried this, it worked and the scene flowed magically.
2. Change the POV
- If your book has multiple POV characters, it might be a good idea to switch the scene to another character’s perspective.
- 9/10 times, this will make the scene flow better.
3. Start the scene earlier/later
- Oftentimes, a scene just doesn’t work because you’re not starting in the right place.
- Perhaps you’re starting too late and giving too little context. Perhaps some description or character introspection is needed before you dive in.
- Alternatively, you may be taking too long to get to the actual point of the scene. Would it help to dive straight into the action without much ado?
4. Write only the dialogue
- If your scene involves dialogue, it can help immensely to write only the spoken words the first time round.
- It’s even better if you highlight different characters’ speech in different colors.
- Then, later on, you can go back and fill in the dialogue tags, description etc.
5. Fuck it and use a placeholder
- If nothing works, it’s time to move on.
- Rather than perpetually getting stuck on that one scene, use a placeholder. Something like: [they escape somehow] or [big emotional talk].
- And then continue with the draft.
- This’ll help you keep momentum and, maybe, make the scene easier to write later on once you have a better grasp on the plot and characters.
- Trust me, I do this all the time.
- It can take some practice to get past your Type A brain screaming at you, but it’s worth it.
So, those are some things to try when a scene is being difficult. I hope that these tips help :)
Reblog if you found this post useful. Comment with your own tips. Follow me for similar content.
Want to create a religion for your fictional world? Here are some references and resources!
General:
- General Folklore
- Various Folktales
- Heroes
- Weather Folklore
- Trees in Mythology
- Animals in Mythology
- Birds in Mythology
- Flowers in Mythology
- Fruit in Mythology
- Plants in Mythology
- Folktales from Around the World
Africa:
- Egyptian Mythology
- African Mythology
- More African Mythology
- Egyptian Gods and Goddesses
- The Gods of Africa
- Even More African Mythology
- West African Mythology
- All About African Mythology
- African Mythical Creatures
- Gods and Goddesses
The Americas:
- Aztec Mythology
- Haitian Mythology
- Inca Mythology
- Maya Mythology
- Native American Mythology
- More Inca Mythology
- More Native American Mythology
- South American Mythical Creatures
- North American Mythical Creatures
- Aztec Gods and Goddesses
Asia:
- Chinese Mythology
- Hindu Mythology
- Japanese Mythology
- Korean Mythology
- More Japanese Mythology
- Chinese and Japanese Mythical Creatures
- Indian Mythical Creatures
- Chinese Gods and Goddesses
- Hindu Gods and Goddesses
- Korean Gods and Goddesses
Europe:
- Basque Mythology
- Celtic Mythology
- Etruscan Mythology
- Greek Mythology
- Latvian Mythology
- Norse Mythology
- Roman Mythology
- Arthurian Legends
- Bestiary
- Celtic Gods and Goddesses
- Gods and Goddesses of the Celtic Lands
- Finnish Mythology
- Celtic Mythical Creatures
- Gods and Goddesses
Middle East:
- Islamic Mythology
- Judaic Mythology
- Mesopotamian Mythology
- Persian Mythology
- Middle Eastern Mythical Creatures
Oceania:
- Aboriginal Mythology
- Polynesian Mythology
- More Polynesian Mythology
- Mythology of the Polynesian Islands
- Melanesian Mythology
- Massive Polynesian Mythology Post
- Maori Mythical Creatures
- Hawaiian Gods and Goddesses
- Hawaiian Goddesses
- Gods and Goddesses
Creating a Fantasy Religion:
- Creating Part 1
- Creating Part 2
- Creating Part 3
- Creating Part 4
- Fantasy Religion Design Guide
- Using Religion in Fantasy
- Religion in Fantasy
- Creating Fantasy Worlds
- Beliefs in Fantasy
Some superstitions:
Here, I have some more:
Africa:
The Americas:
Asia:
- Chinese Mythology
- Japanese Mythology
- Korean Mythology
- Hindu Mythology
- Japanese Folklore and Mythology
- Chinese Mythology
Europe:
- Encyclopedia of Greek Mythology
- The Olympians
- Women in Greek Myths
- Greek Mythology
- More Greek Mythology
- Even More Greek Mythology
- Greek/Roman Mythology
- Germanic Myths, Legends, and Sagas
- Norse Mythology
- The Muse
- Creepy Irish Creatures
- Irish Folklore
- Norse Mythology
- Arthurian Mythology
- Celtic Mythology
- Latvian Mythology
- Norse Gods, Goddesses, and More
- A Celtic Pantheon
- Welsh Gods and Goddesses
- Celtic Deities
- Werewolf Legends from Germany
- Welsh Deities
- Celtic Gods and Goddesses
Oceanic:
General:
- Ancient Myth and Magic
- Massive List of Mythological Creatures
- Mythical Creatures
- Hairy Hominids
- Cryptozoology
- Mysterious Beings, Monsters, and Creatures
- Amulets and Good Luck Charms A - Z
- Modern Monsters
- Myths and Legends
- Folklore and Mythology (2)
- More Links
- Folklore, Myth, and Legend
- Names of Gods and Goddesses
- Folklore Mythology
Reblogging because wow. What a resource.
Oh, that’s unrealistic. They wouldn’t say that.
-Me, reading FAN FICTION
To all of you who are starting NaNoWriMo tomorrow: best of luck!
I’m properly participating for the first time this year, and I am very excited to get started on my story. Will I actually be able to finish it? Who knows - but hopefully it’ll be a fun journey either way.
For this blog, that means that I probably won’t post any reviews for a bit - unless inspiration strikes, of course.
(Yes, this is a response to a post going around how maybe it’s okay if adults are in fandom as long as they understand that fandom is for ickle kiddie-boos and walk on eggshells. Um, no. Back in my day, we kicked y’all off our yahoogroups so we could post adult material, and rigorously didn’t post adult material if the list allowed you.)
So, back in the day, several of the authors of an LJ community that posted NSFW fic met up and had a group photo, which they posted. Apparently, some of the 18 year olds said, “Ewwwwwww! They’re all, like, oooooollllld!”
There’s actually a good reason for that.
Writing is part being good with words and part being good at turning your life experiences into something that other people want to read. Remember my previous rant about how you can’t assume a mystery writer is a homicidal maniac, and you can’t assume that a reader who likes a character has the same personal flaws as that character? There’s a reason people assume these things about authors.
See, if you’ve never fallen in love, you might think romance is when the other person brings you a dozen roses and a box of chocolates. And that’s fine! That’s romantic, too! But if you havefallen in love, you might remember the time that you woke up and went to go to class and found a bunch of wildflowers and a plastic ring from a bubblegum machine tucked under your windshield wiper. And you might remember the half touched, half about to burst out laughing expression on your sweetie’s face when you showed up to class wearing that tacky plastic ring. You might think that love is thinking the other person is the best-looking person in the world, or that love is wanting to spend your life with someone else. That’s love, too! Well, at least the second one is (the first is probably just infatuation). But if you’ve been in love before you’ll know that love is also hurting all over because your sweetie’s abusive parent died and they’re unexpectedly destroyed over it. The latter is worth a million flowery declarations.
Now, I’m not saying that no one under 30 can write. Some young people have had very full lives. And some young people have a natural talent for extrapolating from their own feelings. Virgins can write convincingly about sex, even. But the more life experience you have, the easier it is to extrapolate, and the easier it is to come up with the specific details that make things feel real and true.
If you want to become a better writer, the best things you can do are write a lot, share what you write, and live a full life. And remember, before you say adults should be banished from fandom: your favorite author is probably over 30.
Loved this!
When reading fanfic keep in mind that for professional literature:
- Short story: under 7,500
- Novelette: between 7,500 and 17,500
- Novella: between 17,500 and 40,000
- Novel: over 40,000
Fics over 40k are literally a novel written and shared for free. If you have written a 40k+ fic, you have literally written a novel.
I remember the sound of your laugh because I simultaneously
Love and hate it.
I remember the feeling I get when I kiss you because
You burned your name into my lips with the lies you told
I remember the way I cried when we were drunk in the bathroom together
But those were just tears fueled by alcohol and regret
I remember saying I would never regret anything
But that’s not quite true
I regret letting you in
And holding your hand
And telling you things I can barely say myself
And letting you tell me you wanted to marry me
It wasn’t a commitment thing
Just a thought
A “that’d be nice maybe”
Those never seem to be nice in the end though
He awoke to a crash behind the door and the red lights of the emergency generator. The feeling of cold came next, and it was only just then that he realized something was wrong. With no other humans within 50 miles, he knew that staying in the cot and hoping for the best wasn’t an option. The emergency radio was in the other room, and it was the only way he could get the power turned on, let alone alert anyone to a breach. His feet fell onto the cold tile floor of his temporary bedroom, and he shuffled a thick blanket around his shoulders. With the blanket gripped in one hand and a flashlight in the other, he pushed open the door. The main room was a disaster, with papers and furniture strewn over the floor. The strangest part, though, was the layer of water that coated the floor in a clear path – coming from the freezer.
His heart dropped. With the power off, the block of ancient glacial ice that had been brought in for compound and ion testing must have thawed. That didn’t explain the mess, and the clear path, though. The only reasoning he could come up with wasn’t very reasonable at all, the thought of ancient life having lasted such a long freeze was impossible.
The warm breeze was a welcome sensation as he studied the mess, until the warmth became breath, and the weight of the blanket became the weight of primordial hands. The scientist froze, but it was already over him, stealing his human warmth with clammy skin. The beast was still behind him, growling lowly as it surrounded him with massive, alien appendages. The blanket was pulled from his shoulders, freezing hands pushing up his shirt and onto his warm chest. He clenched his eyes shut, hoping that maybe he could wake himself up, even as the beast lowered him onto the cold, wet ground. Sharp claws cut through his clothing, exposing every inch of his skin to the frigid air. The breath on his face was warm and moist, and as the huge frame of the primordial being came to rest completely on his body. There was rumbling in the beast’s chest that sounded almost like purring, and after a few moments of not being eaten, he opened his eyes. The face of the beast was surrounded in a fan of feathers that fluttered with each tilt of its head as its huge eyes started down at the human. The snout-like mouth and nose nuzzled against the scientist’s neck, and as warmth began to grace his skin, the adrenaline slowed.
Maybe just a bit longer like this, then he would call the other stations about the generator. Until then, though, the mutual sharing of warmth would let him rest.
“Historically, the British nation has only ever existed with colonies and has therefore constructed a national identity through a triumphalist sense of its own imperial greatness, in which the British national character is defined in opposition to the uncivilised nature of colonial subjects. British nationalism necessarily relies on the structured and purposeful forgetting of the violence and domination that characterised empire, while simultaneously lamenting the loss of global power and prestige when Britannia ruled the waves.”—Empire’s Endgame: Racism and the British State
this is a very frivolous take on this quote but i feel like in the current climate of surface-level representation there’s been an explosion of tv shows and other media (both austen-adjacent things like bridgerton and sanditon, and other semi-period pieces like our flag means death and gilded age) that nominally “include characters of color” and “provide representation” but in no way grapples with the reality that the white protags are slaveholders and arms of empire. I mean stede bonnet is a wealthy plantation holder in barbados ffs. and there’s like a little bit of lowkey racism from the bad guys so we can tell that they’re the bad guys, but that’s its only presence and there’s no actual impact on the psyches of the characters of color from having to hang out with the “good guys” who are nonetheless instrumental in the oppression of etc etc. like of course people of color were everywhere in historical places and reality which before the “representation explosion” were depicted in media as pure white, but this explosion I’m conceiving of puts a greater diversity of people of color in those spaces WHILE STILL avoiding the topic of the tension and excruciating struggle for the right to even live that people of color have to experience when such a social power imbalance exists, and making them all friends on equal footing instead. kerry sinanan addresses this much more smartly in her paper on “eroticizing men of empire”
SOO… EXCITING NEWS!!!
As many of you know, I work full time while going to college full time. My dream as always been to write, but it’s hard to do while I’m going to school and working. It’s been hard getting by, even having a full time job, so I thought I would team up with Post+ on Tumblr to earn some extra money, while writing!
By subscribing to my Post+, you can get sneak peaks, exclusive fics, and personal requests for just $3.99 a month. I will also be exploring darker themes and R-rated themes, so if that interests you, subscribe!
It would mean the absolute world to me, and I’ll have my first post up soon. I am so excited to start this journey and to see where it takes me!
ever look at a piece of art and think of how a simple picture, painting, music, or book transcend time. For it to live through generations of generations, era after era, and yet, here it stays, alive and beating. as it captured the hearts of many before, now it beguiles us with the same intensity, even bringing us to tears, knowing that behind each stroke, note, and word is another person’s soul laid bare. gazing in the depths of the Art, we reconcile with the ghost of its creator, drifting and immortal. in a simple glimpse, we became a part of the undying
I am drunk with sleep. I know nothing but the lull of sweet slumber in my mind. I want to be truly awake, feel the pleasure of romance, of poetry idealized in the image of two hands intertwined. The silhouette of shadows coming as one. When will i experience the spark, catch fire and burn with small confessions everyday, as another candle ignites and eases itself in my wandering heart
Academic tip: You should never use passive voice except in instances of self-preservation.
ex. “Mistakes were made.”
The inn was cheap and that was what mattered. Daisuke didn’t intend to spend much time in his inn room, anyway. There was information to be gathered and people to track. It wouldn’t be that hard to find the Yamagarasu offices, of course, but he also wasn’t about to go walking straight into them. He needed to be ready. He needed to know what he was going to say. It would take lotsof time spent out and about the city. Weeks, at least, if not more.
Surveillance began immediately. All it took was a little patience and a handful of luck for Daisuke to overhear the right conversation. The two young men were Yamagarasu, all right, and unknowingly led their tail directly back to the head office. If Daisuke hadn’t been quick on his feet, their Boss would have caught him prowling on the roof opposite the building. But it gave him a place to go every day. He found new routes and hiding places and kept a watchful eye on the yakuza boss every day for the rest of that sennight and into the next.
Becoming the prey himself was a fear that constantly gnawed at the back of Daisuke’s mind. If he thought he heard the scuff of a boot, or saw a shadow out of place, or smelled the wrong cologne on the wind, he fled. Each time he sought a new place to hide and waited, barely breathing and with daggers drawn, for an eternity while nothing happened. It was beginning to fray his nerves.
The first time one of those uncertain, heart-stuttering encounters became a confrontation was almost a relief. Daisuke was at a disadvantage - he attacked only in defense, and without deadly force. The flats of his blades, the pommels, even punches and kicks and a well-placed tackle were his arsenal. He left his assailant bleeding but only unconscious, and did the same thing each successive time another darkened figure detached from the shadows to come for him again.
Some were the Yamagarasu themselves. Trust Oka to not miss that someone was staking out his family’s turf. So far Daisuke was reasonably sure his identity hadn’t been found out and he had every intention of keeping it that way. Some, however, were decidedly not Oka’s little birds. Daisuke recognized the mark of the Akizuki clan embroidered into the clothes of several men he fought and left alive but unconscious and with bruised egos. If he was going to do what he came to Kugane for, Daisuke was going to need to pluck himself up and do it.
Perhaps it was that knowledge that influenced his bad decisions when he found himself face to face with the Raen’s own second in command. Rei caught him fair and square, both if them drawing blood in the ensuing scuffle. But the fact that she saw his face was Daisuke’s biggest mistake. She saw him and she recognizedhim. And when he could have broken and run, instead he let her talk him into staying.
He should have run, he thought distantly. Hindsight was always clear in such a regard. Had he not stayed, had he not made the mistake of trusting her, he wouldn’t have had to confront the man he wasn’t truly ready to encounter. All thoughts of what he’d wanted to say, the close-held and awkward feelings that formed a confusing tangle in his chest that he wasn’t sure how to explain but wanted to try, were quickly condensed into a hardened knot and buried deep under layers of numb distance.
Despite Daisuke’s attempt to ensure that his only reason for being there was to return the gift he’d received and the pearl Oka refused to answer, he doubted he’d been believed. And the words that repeatedly echoed through his mind now cut as deeply and sharply as steel. “It would’ve been awkward if a fling would’ve decided to pursue something more than that.”
That was all it had been. Logically, Daisuke knew that. But he had wantedso badly for it to be something else that he’d convinced himself otherwise. He had twisted himself up in the memories of their short time together and made a muddle of all of it. A single date that shouldn’t have meant anything, a silly nickname, even the unadorned use of his own given name - there was nothing between them that should have driven Daisuke to follow the Raen across the ocean like some sort of besotted youth.
But he had. And the absolute denial that he should have seen coming had sent him reeling.
Rather than his usual roundabout, carefully unique pathing to get back to his temporary quarters, Daisuke walked straight back. He looked straight ahead of him, his gaze never straying to the side or above to check the shadows of nearby streets or rooftops. Such things simply ceased to matter. Why should he care if someone was after him, when there was nothing left of the moorings that had kept him tethered in the first place?
He had left Lydia. His friends from his life before were either dead or otherwise gone. And the very reason for his return to his home city had been spelled out as nothing but a misunderstanding. A mistake. Daisuke had already cut all of his other ties. The Yamagarasu had held the final cord.
At first, nothing within Daisuke’s rented room seemed out of place. The bed was unmussed and his spare clothing untouched. But as his uncaring eyes skimmed over the surfaces they finally recognized the thing that shouldn’t have been there.
A single, ornate dagger lay innocently atop the bedside table. Its blade gleamed with care and hinted to a razor’s edge, and its golden hilt glittered in the low light with rows of intricate filigree and tiny studded gems. It was expensive to the point of gaudy. It had also been Daisuke’s own weapon, years before. A gift from Tachibana to his dear, beloved monster.
As if there could be any doubt of the dagger’s origin, as if Daisuke didn’t recognize every swirl and ridge of the fine decoration, the tiny etching of the Tachibana crest in the base of the blade was impossible to deny. Daisuke walked to it as if in a trance, gloved hand reaching for the hilt and lifting the exquisitely balanced weapon with ease.
It fit as perfectly into his grip as it had before. He would know this blade anywhere. But the last time he had held it was when he had driven it deep into his victim’s body. This weapon, its twin, and the man he had killed with them had all fallen off a Kugane pier and into the ocean that fateful night. There was absolutely no explanation for how it could have found its way here now.
“Ah.” Daisuke’s sudden small noise of understanding was loud in the cramped space. He turned as the door opened behind him and nodded to the man who stood in its frame. It was with an overwhelming apathy that Daisuke allowed himself to be grabbed and disarmed and hauled unceremoniously from the premises. Perhaps he should have fought back. Only bells before he would have fought like a dervish to keep himself free. But such passion was just a memory he could no longer comprehend. His last thought while they threw a bag over his head, before the fist that smacked against his skull was able to find his temple and send him reeling into blackness, was that at least he would keep one promise he’d made: he really was going to disappear. Rei would never have to bother dealing with him again.
((Oka and Rei are @grumpy-limsan-customs-cat ‘s ♥))
The room felt small and cramped, and opening the windows did nothing to relieve the tomb-like stuffiness. Sometimes Daisuke could fool himself into feeling better just with the night breeze blowing through. Unfortunately, it had been getting harder and harder to trick himself lately.
Daisuke leaned out the window and levered himself up, gloved hands finding near-invisible holds in the facade of the building in order to scale it all the way to the roof. Still, even being out in the open air didn’t do enough to calm his overactive mind and restless limbs. He took the linkpearl out of his vest pocket and turned it over in his hands. With the sliver of moon overhead, combined with the vast multitude of stars and the light of the lamps from the street below, Daisuke could easily see through the clear violet crystal. It was so tempting to add its glow to the mix.
But the call would go unanswered again and he knew it. That stark reality shouldn’t have hurt as much as it did each time he reminded himself of it. What had happened moons ago was well past, and a mistake. They both knew it was a mistake, and Oka had proven that he was the stronger of the two of them by severing the continued connection that would never let them move on so long as it existed. It was for the best that it come to an end.
Even Lydia had cautioned Daisuke against the rash actions that teased at him. Kugane wasn’t just dangerous for him; if he gave in to the ridiculous desire to go back just for the possibility of getting to talk to Oka again if only for some kind of closure, there was a strong chance that Daisuke would end up dead. Whoever had put out the hit on the Tachibana would be all too happy to hear of the former assassin’s return to Hingan soil. It would be safer for Daisuke to smash the pearl and stop thinking about taking such a risk just for the sake of trying to talk to someone who was obviously done with him.
Attachments were a risk. Caring about someone else was dangerous and could be used against you. And yet that hadn’t stopped Daisuke from forming an attachment he couldn’t deny and couldn’t remove. The way he felt about that stupid, overly-cheerful Raen had wormed itself into his heart and set up a home there. Sometimes Daisuke really believed that just one more chance to see him was worth the risk of death - that if he didn’t, the feeling in his chest would eat through him from the inside out and leave him dead, regardless.
For one more night, Daisuke resisted. He lowered himself back down to his open window and dropped lightly onto the sill. Maybe in the morning he would take a walk and see if any of the East Aldenard Trading vessels were scheduled to sail anytime soon. Just to see. Just to prove to himself that it was time to stop and turn away.
((the mentioned Oka is @grumpy-limsan-customs-cat ’s!))
y'all know this goes give a ship and a number and maybe a fic will come out (the original post)
- laughing during sex
- and/or things going wrong during sex that leads to laughter
- sex on a countertop/tabletop/sink because we couldn’t wait to get somewhere with cushions
- kissing to stay quiet
- biting to stay quiet
- one person meticulously doing something entirely for the other’s benefit without expectation or need of reciprocation
- “wow i did not know that was A Thing for me until right now and i’m totally fine with that but for the love of god keep doing it”
- someone straddling the other while they’re “trying to read” and slowly getting them to put the book away
- “you’re only allowed to sit there and watch until i tell you otherwise”
- kissing anywhere but the lips
- alternatively, touching anywhere but where the person desperately wants to be touched
- “we couldn’t find a condom so we’re getting each other off in other ways” sex
- anything involving the secretive brushing of fingertips against inner thighs in public spaces
- sex with clothes half on/panties still on
- the pleasant misuse of ties
- sleepy morning kisses that accidentally turn intense
okay, so I realized what my inceptiversary calling is.
WIP CHAT
so. on monday, july 11th, which is a day with no watch party on the calendar, i am going to camp in the chat all day (for a reasonable EST definition of “all day” starting pretty early in the am and running through the day) with maybe some specific clumps of time schedules that are convenient for people of various timezones so we don’t miss each other all day
and we’ll have basically a WIP amnesty event, featuring:
- talking about wips we’re working on
- encouragement
- brainstorming stalled things
- getting workshop advice
- doing word sprints
- a banner / prize / comment fest for anyone who Finishes A Thing / Updates A Thing on the 11th
- off topic nonsense (we might as well schedule for it ;))
let me know if this sounds interesting to anyone. i’ll definitely be there. also if anyone in a different time zone wants to help me extend my hours, that would be cool, too. (i think I can commit to keeping it open from 8 or 9 am to 8 or 9 pm, EST.)
tagging people i think might be interested or want to keep track so they can think about it: @consultingreaders,@chasingriversong,@kate2kat,@sibilantly,@flosculatory,@earlgreytea68,@sofia-gigante@kedgeree11,@knackorcraft… i’m sure i missed lots of my writing pals!!! i’m sorry i am a Dunce !!!!
IMPORTANT QUESTION: At what time will The Discussion of Foreskins happen?
There will be a time foreskins will NOT be being discussed??
We should probably work out some kind of “weather on the ones” situation so people can tune in periodically ;)
Foreskin on the fours?
Welcome to WDRM, your Inceptiversary radio station! Bringing you:
WTF on the ones
Tension on the twos
Threesomes on the threes
Foreskins on the fours
Fluff on the fives
Soulmates on the sixes
Smut on the sevens
AUs on the eights
Nudity on the nines
And zeros are dealer’s choice.
One of my dearest held principles that I share with as many actors as possible is actually quite simple: read poetry. This is even more applicable if you’re also a playwright, writer, director, or composer. The overlap between theatre and poetry is huge, and not just with the classics. Music and poetry are inextricably linked. Reading poetry, both casually and out loud, can really help you grow as an actor and give you the skills to better understand text and subtext when it’s presented to you. Below are some of my very favorite poems for actors. Enjoy.
Megan Married Herself– Caroline Bird
Snow and Dirty Rain– Richard Siken
Ode to the Women on Long Island– Olivia Gatwood
The Kindest Thing She Almost Did – Blythe Baird
May We Raise Children Who Love the Unloved Things– Nicolette Sowder
Preface to a Twenty Volume Suicide Note–Amiri Baraka
Good Bones – Maggie Smith
14 Lines From Love Letters or Suicide Notes– Doc Luben
I have more, but these are some favorites.
