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About Deviant CharmQuarkUnited States Group :iconsketchhaven: SketchHaven
For the love of ideas on paper
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Deviant for 11 Years
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Literature
Rattle Them Bones
Gunning it for the inevitable, I was almost relieved when it happened,
music high and window down, blinded by the airbag
as the car lost the curve and found the ravine.
In three months you can forget almost anything.
Didn't I dream last week of a grey day and a chase,
of a lucid moment, deciding the car could fly—
Plunging toward the interstate, pulling out of the dive.
In three months you can forget almost anything.
And I dreamt of a blue lark with wind and waves written in its feathers,
The white radial joint of a wing hanging by skin and ligaments—
where to let it die, in my hands or in the fields?
In three months you can forget almost anything.
And the feeling of fate accomplished as I climbed from the wreck
to sit crosslegged on the skyreflecting panel of the driver's side door,
looking up at the road, wondering—what am I running from,
what is that bird, what am I trying to forget?
July 2013
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Literature
Vertigo
Looking back with longing at the past
is like dropping a penny down a well
and wishing you had it back.
There is a vertigo to lost time,
a slow climb that shows its elevation
only when you pause to look down.
Sometimes, in the corner of your eye, the ghosts
of former motives reappear among their artifacts,
yet turning to observe them they wink out of sight,
reflection turns to shadow in the water.
It’s not that the wishes didn’t come true—
it’s that you don’t remember, and it doesn’t matter.
2015
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Literature
Suspended Disbelief
On the late bus in the dark, neither here nor there,
iTunes surprises me with a favorite song from years ago—
takes me back—BANG, Hollywood flashback—to a best friend’s basement
is it the clack of the pool balls, neon buzzin’
fistful of bent darts and a new pack of cigarettes,
some manic ideology stringing it all together, a real aesthetic,
whole months that tasted like the inside of a can—
that was someone else, different dreams, got nothing to do with them now—
how strange to find all those paths not chosen just hanging out back there
like disconnected wires from obsolete devices gathering dust behind the receiver,
plug ‘em in again for two minutes, why not—
in one ear, out the other.
12/2013
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Mature content
This is Deep Shit, Guys :iconcharmquark:CharmQuark 3 11
Literature
Going Nowhere Fast - Prologue
Knee-deep in a Louisiana flood, the color of the water should have told him it was a dream. It had none. It had nothing. No reflection, no flotsam, no jetsam, no mud—it let the grey light of the storm pass through it without complaint. A silence made material, not changing that which it submerged except to separate it from everything else. And he was walking, he realized, walking without will or agency into the wind, toward the ocean, deeper into the pale flood.
The abandoned town seemed to dissolve around him, trees and houses thinning until all that remained were a few rough shacks rising on stilts out of the tide. He waded to the nearest structure and climbed the rickety steps. The front door swung lonely in the wind, rain and surf lashing the rustic kitchen through shattered windows. Across the room another doorway yawned into darkness. He walked toward it, peered into the shadow, and closed his eyes as the smooth canvas of his experience crumpled and reformed around him to a
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Declan and the Excelsior :iconcharmquark:CharmQuark 9 2
Literature
Motorcyclist Loses Clothes in Crash
Two laps to go and Declan had finally caught the leader. At the end of the back straightaway his heavily battered, substantially modified 1912 Excelsior howled into the slipstream of Heikki Kallonen’s Indian, then all around them the world seemed to tilt onto its side as the rickety wooden banking rose into the turn. The track seemed to rise above him, not in front of him, so much so that he had to crane his neck to see it—a highway made of oil-streaked wood with dirt on its left and sky on its right, the far turn nearly vanishing in the distance like the twist of a Mobius strip.
Flat out, full gas—at 100 miles an hour, geometry and physics were different. Gravity was out of the picture. Only speed held their tires to boards, held Declan’s ribs flat on the gas tank as the Excelsior’s front wheel pulled level with the Indian’s rear.
Heikki Kallonen glanced over his shoulder—in the echoing bowl of the turn he must have heard the Excelsior’s
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LUUUUUKE... :iconcharmquark:CharmQuark 4 0 Reality Pg 6 :iconcharmquark:CharmQuark 1 2 The Thin White Duke :iconcharmquark:CharmQuark 7 1 The Man Who Fell to Earth :iconcharmquark:CharmQuark 4 4 Spock :iconcharmquark:CharmQuark 5 6 Dual Sportin' (Black and White) :iconcharmquark:CharmQuark 2 0 Dual Sportin' :iconcharmquark:CharmQuark 1 1 MORTAL TERROR! :iconcharmquark:CharmQuark 0 0 Friday Night Antigravity :iconcharmquark:CharmQuark 8 0

Favourites

eggHDR1997 :iconthe-egg:The-Egg 138 31 Where the Old Gods Walk :iconaw-landscapes:aw-landscapes 350 10 Gimlets and Silver Wraiths :icontheefaf:TheEFAF 2 1
Journal
Fiction Critique Workshop 2017
Do you like reading fiction? Do you like writing it? Do you like reading other people’s writing, but when they ask what you thought, your brain does the blue screen of death? Do you want critique on your stories? (pfft, of course you do) Then this workshop is for you! :la:
Wot's all this, then?


What:
A month-long workshop modelled off the peer review component of a creative writing class. We’re going to get down and dirty with each other’s stories, learning through hands-on experience how to critique. Crits will be done through Sta.sh (more on this below.)
Who:
Prose fiction authors of all experience levels are welcome.
When:
1 May to 31 May, 2017.
We want to accommodate all schedules and time zones, so you'll have anywhere from a couple days to a week to complete each new task. We may schedule optional chats just for fun, but you don't need to be available at exact times
:iconakrasiel:akrasiel
:iconakrasiel:akrasiel 8 54
Journal
Network Yourself #2: Help Us Help You!
Networking Time!

You asked for it, you've got it! We're putting together a repository to help you give and receive feedback!
We ask that if you're participating here, to please try participating on both ends - beta readers don't grow on trees, they're usually fellow writers who want feedback just as much as you do. Plus, it's a great way to build your own networking and writing skills.
First, introduce yourself!

Great, now, we have a few questions for you. But heads up we have some rules here.  Please adhere to them, as we want you to be noticed! Remember you are selling us on your story. In the comments, answer these, :
How long is your story?One sentence summary?What media (books, tv, etc) are the biggest influences on your story?
What is your story genre/subgenre?What draft are you on (first, second, etc)?
When did you start writing seriously?
What are your top three favorite books? 
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:icondoughboycafe:doughboycafe 15 69
Literature
Half-mast prayer
We’re cut from simple cloth
We tatter quickly
Anger unfurls me like a blazoned flag
O grant me love enough
To curl in kindness
The flapping corners of this threadbare rag
To fold away this senseless
Shouting symbol
This raging brightness billowed by the blast
Too partisan, too crude
To be a beacon
Born of the storm, unworthy of the mast
Let me be worn instead
On shivering shoulders
Or drape me over sleep, that it be sound
If somewhere blood is shed
Then let my fabric
Be bandages with which the wounds are bound
We’re cut from simple cloth
We fray too quickly
The sky is hard to see for all the flags
So grant me love enough
To curl in kindness
The tattered corners of this threadbare rag.
:icongrind-the-rust:grind-the-rust
:icongrind-the-rust:grind-the-rust 2 5
Again :iconcoupleofkooks:coupleofkooks 250 19 The sun and the rainfall :iconck0t:CK0T 109 9
Journal
Monthly Round-up!
The first of our resurrected Round-ups is here! Collected over the last month, we have a few select lit pieces and a whole slew of community news, including publishing opportunities, new groups, and contests.
This Month's Features
:star:
Recursion by johnhmaloney
A great short read that will have you questioning events up until the very end
johnhmaloney has done an admirable job presenting the start of this short story as an occurrence that could happen in any household when one wakes in the night, following up a seemingly mundane routine with a truly surprising and slightly unsettling ending. A well written piece of fiction with a smooth progression of events
:star:
Sheltering Sprites by Dakoa
"Sometimes we forget how dangerous beautiful things are"
A tale with a twist in its ending, reminding us of how far we have come in forgetting the dange
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Night Moves :iconvalenberg:Valenberg 770 47
Literature
Xeric Dreams
Sometimes I wonder if the desert sleeps.
It is on those nights just bright enough to send static down my spine, or during those hours when the heat is so intense that even sound falls, exhausted and muffled, to the sand. It is when I sit on the mesa's edge, knowing I am, in the simplest sense, alone.
There are so many instances where I feel as if my lone soul is awake in this expanse. I trace my hand along stone worn smooth by the particles in the wind, and I turn my face to the patch of sky visible through the fingers of the badlands's chasms. My bare feet sink into the loose sediment from the last sandstorm, and I climb the rocky spine of a world long dead. My travels go unnoticed by my companions in isolation--my fellow nomads, nocturnal and fleeting, borne upon four paws or two wings or six spindly legs or scales that, like the sandstone my fingers travel over, have been polished by the sand.
Times come when I must remind myself that this was a solitude self-imposed, and an exile s
:iconAnalyticArt:AnalyticArt
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ACVi EV fightclub rich GBeloeil (2) :icongillesbeloeil:gillesbeloeil 275 16 Gentle :iconjuliedillon:juliedillon 1,084 43 Cheerful morning :icongrind-the-rust:grind-the-rust 5 2
Literature
Peaches in the Fall
You are brought to mind
By the memories of those who I don't know
Almost as well as I didn't know you
It's easy to love
When the blush of community
Warms the evening chill
With you, I was comfortable
Which seemed at odds with how desperately
I wished you were my friend
Living in these modern times
Memories seem lessened if they're not the sort to share
But vividness has its own value
Make it not be true.
Make it not be true.
Make it not be true.

I pleaded
When I heard the world had lost your sweetness
And my grief was only purer
For doubting you'd have ever been
Mine to lose
What I remember best
Is how I felt when you remembered me
:iconJessaMar:JessaMar
:iconjessamar:JessaMar 7 4

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CharmQuark
United States
Engineering student, talentless rider of two-wheeled vehicles, recovering wannabe artist. The recovery is not going well. Neither is the art.

It's supposed to be a novel. Setting is 1920s, northeast US. Love and fear and gasoline. Y'know, the usual.
Art is firmly on the back burner due to school and likely to remain there until May. I don't really have the emotional energy or time to properly WRITE anything--like write any content that I ever want anyone to read--but in lieu of that I've scribbled out umpteen pages of hemming and hawing about how my plot may or may not run.

I've never really done that before--outlined the whole plot in detail before starting to write. Mostly, I think, because I've always been in denial about 99% of my literary output being dopey love stories underneath a heavy spackling of pretension and angst. It's kind of hard to hold your head up and keep putting in unnecessary death symbols and punctuating dialogue with dashes when the plot outline clearly says GIRL OR BOY MEETS BOY, THEY FALL IN LOVE, THE END.  

But at some point, you just have to grow up, embrace your inner 16-year-old, and write the dopey love story. And when you do, it will be a lot less dopey if it doesn't have 10,000 glaring plot holes. It will probably be 2018 before I fill them all in... Such is the hardship of trying to finish something that I started when I was an actual teenager. 

Not, admittedly, that my grasp of human motivation is any stronger now than it was then. In fact, since I started engineering school it has probably gotten worse.

Comments


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:iconsolidmars:
SolidMars Featured By Owner Mar 31, 2017  Hobbyist General Artist
Wave by chil96
Thank you kindly for the watch. I hope you'll keep enjoying my work as long as I keep on terrorizing dA :giggle:
btw, you're an awesome person. Have a great day :heart:
Reply
:iconcharmquark:
CharmQuark Featured By Owner Apr 2, 2017
De nada. I've stumbled upon your writing a few times on here and always enjoyed it, so the watch is overdue. Keep the dA terrorism comin'!
Reply
:iconanalyticart:
AnalyticArt Featured By Owner Mar 27, 2017  Hobbyist General Artist
Big thanks for the watch as well!
Reply
:iconcherry-lei:
Cherry-Lei Featured By Owner Mar 27, 2017  Hobbyist Digital Artist
Thank you for the llama
Reply
:iconjoebev910:
joebev910 Featured By Owner Mar 25, 2017   Digital Artist
hello
Reply
:iconcreativelyaddled:
CreativelyAddled Featured By Owner Feb 28, 2017  Hobbyist Writer
Thank you so much for the Fave and Watch! It really means a lot!

Also, Happy Belated Birthday!
Reply
:iconcharmquark:
CharmQuark Featured By Owner Mar 1, 2017
My pleasure, and thanks!
Reply
:iconlariethene:
Lariethene Featured By Owner Feb 14, 2017  Hobbyist Traditional Artist
Thanks for the fav :)
Reply
:iconspiritfingers:
SpiritFingers Featured By Owner Feb 12, 2017
Happy birthday!!! :dummy:
Reply
:iconcharmquark:
CharmQuark Featured By Owner Feb 12, 2017
Thank youuu! Hug 
Reply
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