Panda-Vision

deviantART has been, at points in the past, a big part of my writing development . . . for better or for worse.  As I've aged, I've come to see it as rather insular; the harshest version of my view says it offers defective goals for a writer/artist who wants to succeed on a large scale.  It's a community full of good people, but ultimately one really ought to be striving beyond comments and favs.

The reality is that, as my work becomes increasingly widely published, it becomes too difficult for me to have pieces up here, as most publications will not include work that is available online elsewhere.

Most places will allow personal websites as an exception, so you can now find my work at the URL below. I am also continuing my involvement with Minarets, a fine journal of poetry.

Godspeed, the lot of you.




:: www.chrisholdaway.com ::
:: www.minaretsjournal.com ::





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I am about to change the way that I do everything. It is going to beneficial, I keep telling myself.




:: www.minaretsjournal.com ::





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How would you go about writing something that sounded slow?

I don't mean boring and uneventful, or an extended passing of time. Rather, what sorts of devices would you use to give something an inflated sense of duration, without succumbing to drawn out lethargy?

Hard question. This is what I think we all need to do. Anyone got any ideas?




:: www.controlverbs.net ::





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My friend Brittany and I have jumped on the fuckyeahX band-wagon over at the Tumblr, since we noticed that there was one for every season except Autumn... I know right? What. The. Hell. Autumn is absolutely the best season.

Anywho, we are now semi-ironically maintaining fuckyeahautumn.tumblr.com so if you're also a fan, we'd love for you to follow us.



p.s. if/when reading this, the more you imagine me sounding like a hipster-douche, the better.




:: www.controlverbs.net ::





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I just don't understand why everyone thinks this guy is so bleak. He's tellin' like it is, sitting at his desk with all that spiky white hair and just dishing it out on the world, for its own good. Someone's gotta do it.

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The poet presents the imagination with images from life and human characters and situations, sets them all in motion and leaves it to the beholder to let these images take his thoughts as far as his mental powers will permit. That is why he is able to engage men of the most differing capabilities, indeed fools and sages together. The philosopher, on the other hand, presents not life itself but the finished thoughts which he has abstracted from it and then demands that the reader should think precisely as, and precisely as far as, he himself thinks. That is why his public is so small. The poet can thus be compared with the one who presents flowers, the philosopher with one who presents their essence.

Aphorisms, 4.



:: www.controlverbs.net ::





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