literature
Best corporate culture and workplace literature to better your workplace experience. Journal's favorite stories.
Marigold Memories
Marigold Memories One glance at the small bouquet of golden marigolds on the entryway table and I find it hard to breathe, my chest tightening against my will. I make an excuse and escape to the powder room. Staring into the vanity mirror I see the golden flecks in my green eyes staring back at me.
By Sherri Rolfs5 years ago in Journal
Writing Prompts - Create Your Own
Blank pages come in myriad forms. Ghostly rectangles on desktop screens. College-lined blue on white cheap paper. Yellow schoolchild tablets. Heavy pebbly stationary with a monogram. Yet they have a commonality: blank pages beg to be filled. With writing.
By Diane Helentjaris5 years ago in Journal
Writing Historical Novels
Destinni paced the floor of her ancestral manor. Did Captain Rick FitzHazard, the only man she had ever loved, swing from the gallows like the pendulum on her father’s clock? Or — she pressed her hand to her lips — had he escaped Cromwell’s hangman?
By David Neilson5 years ago in Journal
The Importance of Literature in a 21st-Century world
At the point when understudies study Literature, they figure out how to acknowledge words and their force. They travel to different domains and times through the writings they read. They comprehend their own way of life and others’. They figure out how to sympathize with characters, to feel their delights and torment.
By Iqra Mukhtar5 years ago in Journal
8 Steps to Writing a Book
It’s not that I ever really thought about my process of writing until my cousin asked me for a guide because she was having difficulty with getting her thoughts organized and staying on track. So, a few years back, I came up with 8 steps. I had forgotten about these until recently when she brought them up. I didn’t remember sending them to her at all, but after looking over them, I realized I still follow the same process. Things have changed a little bit as my writing has developed, but overall, I keep to this pattern. Not every author writes with the exact same method, however, this is apparently what works for me.
By J.C. Winter5 years ago in Journal
Finding Audible
Historically, I have been a book snob. For as long as I can remember, I have loved books. Not just the content but also the hefty weight of a daunting hardcover or the smooth arch the pages of a paperback made when thumbed. I love the smell of the pages (new or old) and the anticipation that comes with turning every thin paper leaf. I love books.
By Megan R Williams5 years ago in Journal
Change is Coming
I've had a pretty crappy morning so far. I woke up and had to use the bathroom and had my ankle and tongue hurting. Then I went back to sleep and woke up a couple hours afterwards and my tongue was hurting,my ankle stopped hurting for a bit and I got splashed with water from babe leaving a cup filled with salt water from yesterday because his tooth was hurting last night.
By daija miller5 years ago in Journal
Dusting the Attic
I need to rebuild the lactic acid in my pens and legal pads. That’s what they all say, isn’t it? Writing is a muscle, exercise it. Exercises of plot and character and theme and structure and point of view, all neat little blocks that fit together to make a castle, but I’m not sure I like the neat lines. When I exercised in real life I didn’t like the discipline, didn’t like the every day of it, didn’t care for the stamina and the sculpt, I wanted short bursts of energy giving me wings, absolute freedom, and days afterward of paralyzing recline. I don’t think writing should have neat lines, except the little blue ones on notebook pages, because things with neat lines are usually artificial, man-made, and I want to be a force of nature. I want to be messy, because people are messy, no matter how well they like to pretend to be put together, their brains are messy places, and I want to be human.
By Emily Gaines5 years ago in Journal
Deltora
When I was a young boy, life was troublesome, marred with uncertainty and incomprehension. Life at home was full of conflict, which I would not be able to understand until decades later. School was something of a battleground, with merciless bullies, severe instructors, and a central desire to be a part of the background rather than caught in the crossfire. There wasn’t much I could do to escape from the difficulties of my reality. The only settings available to me were ones of tension and trepidation, with little space for solitude. Even my bedroom was shared with my big brother, who could be hostile.
By Michael Butler5 years ago in Journal
