Hello everyone! It's Kelsy, aka SpriteBlayde here. Welcome to the fifth volume of The Ink Stained Quill. This series focuses on the amazing writers we have here on deviantART. Each installment will feature a deviant who you may, or may not know, who is willing to answer some of my questions! Whether you are a long time writer, or a newbie, there is something for everyone in the series who is looking to improve their craft or for some light reading.
Today's guest is a special one, as a celebration for having posted five of these interviews now. He is also one of the most important people in my life, second only to my family. Without further ado, please welcome chromeantennae!
Before we start, is there anything you would like to share with our audience? Little known facts about you, words of wisdom, information on upcoming projects, etc.?Seeing as how the World Cup just recently ended a few days ago
I guess I can share that I’ve played soccer for about 13 years before stopping a couple years ago. I’m a huge fan of the sport and I watch it whenever I can. Other than that you guys know a ton about me (probably ‘cause I share too much, ha!) and uuuhh...really, I’m just trying to get back into the swing of things here. It’s been an up-and-down summer so I’m tryin’ to really get back involved like I was in the beginning of summer. I also want to point out Echolalic-Ellie
’s book she’s getting together. I just know it’ll be absolutely wonderful and I hope people check it out once it’s finished.Can you tell us a little bit about your writing habits? Perhaps about how frequently you write, or if you only write when inspiration strikes?
My writing habits are fairly simple. I try to write everyday. No matter if I’m going through a block or not—simply because it’s good to get different phrases, words, etc. in as often as you can. And whenever a block strikes, I tend not to focus on it. I don’t focus on writing. Like I tell everyone, I let the writing come to me when this happens. I step away from writing poetry. Close dA for a while, play video games. Hang with my family, just take my mind completely off of it. And whenever a sliver an idea comes to pass, I’ll jot it down as soon as I can. It’s never good to “force” writing, y’know? I honestly just try to write ideas as they come. Whenever they may come. And if they don’t, I’ll find a word to store away and its definition to save for a later date. Perhaps that helps with some of the words I use in my poems? Haha.Can you please step us through your writing process?
My writing process? Just get in my room. My room is my safe have to just get away from any distractions or noise. And just put on some good, background music (particularly instrumentals) and just let the words do their thing. It’s quite therapeutic, really.
How did you first start writing? (I know the answer to this question, as do some others, but it's always nice to hear how people get started.)
Well (and I’ve practically memorized this story with how much I’ve told it), you were smack dab in the middle of it. Without you and my grandmother, I probably wouldn’t be writing poetry in the first place.
The story goes like this: I started writing in late 2012. Right after my 16th birthday. (I can’t believe I’m gonna be 18 in three months. Gosh.) But during that time (And you can attest to this), I was in a bit of a funk during this stretch and my grandmother (Whom I affectionately call Grandbomb, but that is another story for another day.) asked me if I "wrote lyrics." I asked her if she meant in a musical sense, and she replied with, "Yes. I think you'd be good at it. You're very poetic." I didn't do much with the comment at the time (Of course I thanked her for her kind words.), but I realized after my 16th birthday, maybe I could do something with it. Call it an epiphany, if you will. Haha.
It just so happened that your birthday was coming up in a few short months and I wanted my first poem to be substantial, even if I didn't really know "how" to write poetry. Ever since then, with the way you reacted, I've been addicted to writing ever since.
I know that you received a DD on your piece, "Chrysanthemum". Can you share some insight on how this felt? And what this poem was about/ what inspired it?
It felt…shocking, really. I wasn’t expecting it. It was just a big bundle of emotions. All positive really ‘cause I saw congratulations messages from hypermagical
, and so many others I just didn’t know what to say ‘cause I was actually away from dA that entire day so when I saw it; I was stunned. But elated. And the piece was about a dream I had. About someone being gone from my life at the time. I was proud of the piece, definitely, but I was shocked it got a Daily Deviation. To a degree, I still somewhat am.
I actually have two Daily Deviations but the other is in storage for personal reasons.Do you have any advice for aspiring or longtime writers that you would like to share?
Never force writing and experiment. Experiment is a writer’s exercise and it helps you grow as a writer. And I often saying to never force writing because that tends to get me deeper into slumps, personally. Obviously everyone’s different but if you guys are like me, don’t force it. Get away it from it and clear your head. And besides those two things, write because you want to. Create because that’s
what you want to do. Your art will be a lot better because of it. I promise everyone reading this, that.
You're an admin along with myself over at DailyLitRecognition. Can you tell us how you found them and what made you want to be a part of this wonderful group?
I found them through DLD. DailyLitDeviation was the group before them and I’ve been an avid follower of them since last year or so. I also really want to be involved with the community and I felt as though the next step was to attempt to be an admin for this group. Maybe it’ll groom me for bigger things. Who knows, that’s a bit down the road, but I do love doing it. It’s a great family of lit lovers. Love to everyone on board, of course! In particular TwilightPoetess
for being SO amazing in helping me get started and SilverInkblot
for the opportunity to be a part of this great team.
Could you please share 2-3 of your own deviations and tell us why you picked them?
Froth And WingsFroth And Wings
i reside in the corners
of white-tiled floors,
knees pressed to my chest
like a covetous courtship
brought together by taken lovers.
steam rising from the water
that's sliding down tub walls,
overflowing as the hot liquid
seeps under my worn toes.
ravaged by the road i've taken
and refuse to exit off of.
i nestle my forehead
against the top of my kneecap,
and tighten my arms
around my calves
as if curling into a ball
will help me roll around
from corner to corner,
hitting every insecurity i own
with no way to dodge it.
i pull myself closer together,
tighter and tighter
like a gymnast
and my shoulder blades
stretch my skin,
until the marrow
spreads like wings
across my broken back.
as my eyes shut
like a venus flytrap
wrapping around its meal.
and i sit there,
my frame distorting
and contorting itself
around the withering heart
and sorrow left
like a dying rose.
and the water holds my ankles
- I feel this showed my ability to really play with words as well as still maintain that emotional edge to my pieces.
I'm In Debt (Broken Wealth)I'm In Debt (Broken Wealth)
the best things in life are expensive.
they cost so much.
but money is a crutch.
for broken spirits
and disintegrating hearts
falling into palms
of skin-lined pockets
holding the loose change
of broken watches.
you're not empty
unless your pockets are filled.
but you're empty,
if they are not.
because money is reliable,
it buys memories
stamped onto cliche hallmark cards,
and makes smiles cheap.
but oddly expensive.
money show ivory pearls
as well as buy them.
revenue is the residue
of things that cannot be returned
but was manufactured in a shoe shop.
in the factories of china,
and slaved away in the dust of india,
money is safe.
money is easy.
euros and sterling,
and Benjamin Franklin,
make it so.
money is a crutch
that helps us walk,
helps us talk,
helps the feds,
helps us wed,
helps the dead.
because a dead clock,
is right twice a day.
and you have to make sure,
the last time you see
time respects the corpse.
- This piece really means a lot to me because of the message, quite simply. I feel it’s something a lot of people forget because NOTHING in life is free. Not even love. Not time. Nothing. Because in a blink of an eye, it can all fade away.
Ghost Threads (Kaidan)Ghost Threads (Kaidan)
spaghetti strings, marinara red
sit in my metacarpal plates.
i wrap my bony digits
around the threads tight,
my knuckles white
around my blush mane.
i always had this bad habit,
of pulling my hair w-w-when--
whenever I got anxious.
and when I was younger,
I had a stuttering problem
and it'll sh-show up
every n-n-now and again.
every time i lay in my bed,
i feel the shadow of your fingerprints,
ghost across my skin.
so i strangle my tresses in stress,
to get you out of my head.
i never expected your cologne
to override perfume cloaked sheets.
the only code you ever had
was written by armani,
and i fell for it,
like when i close my eyes at night.
mornings are always hard.
i try not to roll over,
but i always end up
right back in the bruises
of a shattered accord.
like someone cut a cord.
we were a f-f-false knot
and our baby had no-no-no more b-b-breath.
i hate this d-d-damn pillowc-c-c-case.
but i can't bring myself to throw it out.
- I also feel this shows my ability to utilize space and timing in my poetry. Like I always say, “Wordplay, space, and structure are my calling cards in writing,” and this is one of my better pieces showcasing just that, I believe.
Please pick 2-5 deviations from other people and share why you picked them.
Reddish-Brown Letters He fills entire pages with his letters to her, waiting for the day when she’ll send one back.
When she finally does, he notices that the ink looks oddly colored and her letter is shorter than he wishes it would be. Regardless, he writes her another one. Another swiftly follows, because he loves her and wants her to know everything in his life. It’s a happy one, though he sometimes wonders if he should go back to check on her.
Her letters get shorter and shorter, and he wonders why the ink keeps getting odder and odder colored.
A letter arrives one day with letters written entirely in reddish-brown ink. He wonders where she got it.
Just as he begins to send her another letter, someone arrives to tell him that she’s dead, unable to pay the bills to get treatment, waiting until it was far too late. Nobody mentions the small cut on her arm that appeared to have been picked at and opened again and again. The coroner remarks on how thin she is, how hard the last few
: It’s so clever, brilliantly done. Morbid, but fantastic.
BabydollPropping my daughter against the towel on my shoulder, I rhythmically pat her back. Nevaeh's just had her second bottle of the day, and try as I might, I still can't get her to burp. Today is no different, and in the end I give up, wipe her small round mouth, and pop her in the bouncer for a while. It's the electric kind, with a soft lullaby and swinging motion, so I know she'll be entertained while I get on with the mountain of washing that needs to be folded.
You wouldn't think just two people could make so much washing, but ever since her dad had left me, it seemed like the washing pile had grown larger instead of smaller. Despite the lullaby, I make conversation with her as I fold - it seems to me that it's the best way to develop her speech, for her to hear it. She's such a good, quiet baby, I often wonder how long until she starts making more noise.
By the time I've reduced "mount fold-me" to a mere foothill, she's finally asleep, so I leave her in the bouncer and dash out to che
: This piece is just amazing. I really don’t have the words for it. Just read it, everyone. It’s phenomenal.
day teni. alpha i. omega
i am not ready to grow up, i am not ready to grow up,
but dissonant chords, memento mori, but the promise of independence, autonomy,
and the date of my birth and of making something of myself
clamour sharply at my senses keeps me moving along the path,
abusive, aggressive, morose - terrified, uncertain, hopeful -
i wonder how other people i wonder if i
: Despite the format kicking her butt (Hehe), the formation of it is gorgeous and of course, the writing itself is phenomenal. I adore this piece to pieces.
we always duel in redi used to
duel in red]
to keep a portion of it
within your chest
i press your ribs
in your sleep
bleaching your lungs
from the inside out
drown the sun
: So real. Gorgeous. Striking. I love this piece so, so, so much.
winter is not a womanwinter has no love for anyone but herself
and it shows in the way she digs
shards of blue tile from her knees
beneath the quiet dawning of a new day.
she is only fifteen
but she already has six notches on her belt,
one for each year she has knelt praying
at the smooth white altar
in the main bathroom.
her eyes are moss and fibre,
splintered at the edges from hard use
and too little maintenance.
the weight of her truth shows in them,
but winter smiles with teeth rotting from the back
and people let their eyes slide.
she hears children keening at night
and her eyelids play memories on reels,
but she never lets her voice bubble up her throat
and out into the air,
visceral and strained between breaths,
and the reality is that she can't--
it washed away on a tidal wave of bile
and hasn't been seen since,
rumoured sightings of it in the atlantic
no more than fables.
she performs a swan dive at the local pool
and earns applause from toddlers
but when she is alone at night,
: This is just a near perfect piece on this subject. Instant fave on this piece.
I know that some people have one or more favorite quotes that stick with them or inspire them. Care to share any?
Um, just one in particular honestly. "Trust your senses, only our judgement fails us." My dad first told me that and it always sticks with me. Always, always.
Do you have any favorite books, authors, poets, writers, deviants, etc., that you would like to share with us?
, carmennge toxic--sunrise
, half-pixieman Nullibicity SpiderwebWisher
, and just so, so, so many more. I love all of these people, plus more. Far too many to name.
Oh, and of course: You, Kelsy. (Thank you. ) Any thing else you would like to say to our audience before we conclude this interview?
I’m so sorry if I forgot your name in that ridiculous list but I still love you so much.
Don’t be afraid to create things you love. Do things you love. And never, EVER let anyone stop you from doing what it is you want to do. If you believe strongly in something, go get it.
Thank you SpriteBlayde
, for the opportunity to talk to you about myself a little bit. I truly am honored.
And of course, I love you all and you’re all beautiful, amazing, and incredible. Yes, YOU.
And that's a wrap! Thanks so much for joining us today. Be sure to go give Ricky's work lots of love! He's an affable person who likes to make friends.
And thank you to my audience, it's been a pleasure having you for the fifth edition of The Ink Stained Quill! If you know of anyone you think would be a great literary guest, please feel free to comment or note me with their username and why they should be interviewed. Thanks guys!