To be honest, what drew me to this book was its title. I fancy a good fantasy story and “The Return of The Water Spirit” sounded like one I might very much enjoy. The beginning pages drew me to this strong female character, Carmina, who thought of the payment of bride price as an obscurantist tradition…
I haven’t (book) blogged in forever! My only reason? Lately, I just cannot keep up with adulting, and I am only now attempting to read more (my year in reading is appalling!) and hopefully write more. I have not published any short stories this year, but keeping it positive, my first book was released in … Continue reading #BookishThoughts: Woman Hollering Creek by Sandra Cisneros
Review: ‘Brass Neck’ by Victoria Naa Takia Nunoo Publisher: RLFPA Editions Published: 01/26/2020 An Exercise in Rejecting Permission by Giving Permission In Victoria Naa Takia Nunoo’s debut Brass Neck, the body is at the center of a turf war between acceptance through exploration and repulsion through boundaries. Ilya Kaminsky who chose the collection as … Continue reading Review: ‘Brass Neck’ by Victoria Naa Takia Nunoo – Aha! Review
Talk Session No. 10 – Writing with patience, persistence and truth – the importance of developing one’s creativity with Victoria Naa Takia Nunoo. Read more > https://thewrncollective.wordpress.com/2019/04/06/writing-with-patience-persistence-truth/
my body isn’t mine dawn and dusk it belongs to the restlessness the tomorrow never comes only the in betweens are mine to control my imperfections are mountains i am climbing myself rain is boring into my back water is filling me up i am too heavy the slippery stones give but the ground doesn’t … Continue reading Stagnant Water
i have a whole room to myself. yet, this is me crouching in one corner. square rooms are prison cells. they end everywhere. can you smell the loneliness on my tired clothes? sweat-drenched XXL Lacoste made bed. too made to be lain in. my mind is a gutter. all the waste gathers here. it is … Continue reading Rodent Parade
when the sound of my own breathing reaches my ears and my skin is warm and time attaches itself to my brain vulnerable, i am my most, here now, inside sheets reeking of aging dreams and dying hope there’s too much valley here when do i start climbing?
Sometime last August, I was contacted by a colleague writer to share my art process and the importance of the narrative with a group of students, as part of the Nkabom Literary Festival 2017. Knowing myself and how lowkey I am/try to be, the first word that came to mind was FLEE. The second word … Continue reading I’m learning to be lit at this writing distin
your first love’s tattooed on your heart and it burns, still burns like it was just yesterday they decided to be fire instead of water.
How many more scars do you need on your body to remind you of the existence of some dark place? To remind you to not stray too far To not bring along people whose hands cannot build home or hold one down?