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About Literature / Student Member David21/Male/United Kingdom Groups :iconbiblioclasts: Biblioclasts
Blunt trauma meets cloud nine.
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This new site format is /so ugly/.
Luke Sanderson was not a clever man; or at least, that's what he'd always been told. Of course, he had a different kind of wit about him – it takes a special sort of man to give directions through his city via off licenses, bars and police stations. He knew the funeral parlours in this part of town by name, and had seen twelve of his friends die; one for each year he'd spent in school. If he was rich, people would have likened his personality to Charles Bukowski, not that that was a compliment in any shape or form – he just like the smell of liquor on his own breath talked as much and as fast as he could to compensate for that.

Sixteen is too young for a man to have been drinking for five years now, but Camden was like that, especially in 1997. It was the part of London that didn't get glossed over as cosmopolitan; the part where 'rude' wasn't a fashion statement but a survival tactic, and if you carried a purse you were either walking hurriedly or running away from its previous owner. The nights were a sharp black, the kind of shade where everything has a bite to it but you don't stay around to savour its taste.

It was the part of London where the only rainbow you'd find was in the WD40 slick in the gutter slowly draining the colour out of your life. The part where a 'walk in the park' could be putting your life on the line and you only ever did it to get the shortest route home. The part where Christmas means the new year's clothes, a decent meal and nothing more.

It was the part of London called home. The part of London called human.

Sixteen is far too young for a man to have seen his first corpse; not one of those preened ones you get at open casket funerals, or the kinds you see in old-fashioned history classes where they line up the First World War casualties on an old film-slide for the OHP and expect you to feel shocked, despite being adolescent and not quite knowing what shocked means. No, the corpse that Luke saw too young was that of his brothers, still bleeding in the corridor while the wind knocked the forced front door back and forward, tolling the hour like a death knell from Macbeth.

Darren Sanderson was not a clever man. Five years older than his brother, he'd been forced into guardianship three years ago when their dad died leaving them both orphans. His three GCSE's didn't leave him with much to play with on the employment market that lay about post-Thatcher, so he turned to less salient career opportunities throughout the city, ferrying packages of powder in the back of a rucksack while riding a stolen bicycle. He'd picked up the habit when he left school and found himself surrounded by the kinds of people who'd offer those sorts of opportunities – he didn't go to college or get an apprenticeship, he picked up a pack of white powder around the age of sixteen and didn't turn back regardless of whose turf his career made him cross.

Sixteen is far too young for a man to have made himself into a career criminal, but here was Darren Sanderson nonetheless. The boy, not a man really, made a reputation for himself by beating a man nearly to death with a section of pipe because he was jealous of the girl he was dating and, hey, that's how his peers always taught him to express himself. He carried himself around town with more swagger than a fifties gangster because that's what he thought he was, the 'more-than' Al Capone. Give a man a fish and you'll feed him for a day but you give a man a wad of fifties? You'll stoke his ego for a life time. And he carried that ego out of bounds, further than old Wayne had told him he could take his white powder to sell.

It was the part of London that had never seen a credit card except to cut out lines on a glass table. The part of London where stepping on someone's toes didn't get you a telling off, people just quietly went around asking questions about you until they could follow you home and put a knife in your ribs. It was the part of London that Darren Sanderson shouldn't have gone to.

Blood stains in the carpet, Luke ran to the phone for once hoping the police would arrive sooner rather than later. Darren was pronounced dead at the scene, and Luke was taken into foster care for the remaining two years, in an old battered house that never saw many guests but the waifs that were already trapped there. These waifs would be the last new people Luke'd dare to meet, and old Wayne approached him there once, at first out of sympathy, but later out of necessity.

Nineteen is too young to be a drug dealer, but nineteen is also too young to be a father, and for all he'd tried to avoid it one of those waifs had turned into Luke's wife. He was a father to three five years later, twin girls and a boy; his partner always said the little brat always took after him. It took the bright blue eyes of this youngster to pull him away from old Wayne and the £400 'in-your-pocket' a week life style. He went on the dole, and then into sales, and then finally into the cardiac unit at Whittington Hospital where the cocaine caught up with him, leaving his son the only boy in the Sanderson family.

James Sanderson was not a clever man; but only because he was not yet a man. He had a sharp tongue that got him into trouble more often than it got him out of it, but the humour that rolled off of it and out of his mouth always had a certain wit about it that very few of the stragglers around post-Blair Camden could copy – he was smart in an organic sense, and it didn't take him long to get over the death of his father and take in the inevitability of his family's poverty. In 2014, slowly emerging into his teen years, he sought to fix it.

Fourteen is too young to be a drug dealer, but old Wayne had nothing but kind words for James' father and uncle, so the kid thought he'd give it a shot.

How'd you reckon this one ends, then?
That Part of London
Yeah, I'm back. 

This is a little piece that is not so subtle in illustrating how annoyed I am with the cyclical capitalist nature of my country, so I decided to try a new thing with the paragraph structure and a couple of the subtle references.

Give us a comment and tell me what you think, preferably focussing on the writing style as a whole rather than the little scrupulous details I might have missed (though if you do spot any, please append them).
 
Loading...
"And low, the masses looked on and spake between themselves...

Shit."

Malteasers, Verse 6, Chapter 9
  • Listening to: Gallows - CocoRosie
  • Reading: American Gods - Neil Gaiman
  • Watching: American Horror Story
"And low, the masses looked on and spake between themselves...

Shit."

Malteasers, Verse 6, Chapter 9
  • Listening to: Gallows - CocoRosie
  • Reading: American Gods - Neil Gaiman
  • Watching: American Horror Story

Swag - For my girls

Journal Entry: Sun May 13, 2012, 3:33 PM


Ladies and Gentlemen, this is Mambo No. 5



Oh hot damn this tune.


One, two, three, four, five, everybody in the community come on let's jive.....

To the, lit treasure around the corner.

The boys say they want scripts and prose but I really don't wanna.

Writer's Block like I had last week.

I must stay deep 'cause talk is cheap.

I like Amber, Sarah, Steph and Priya.

And as I continue, you know the read's sweeter.

So what can I do? I really beg, yeah I implore.

To me reading is just like a sport.

These girls write, it's good, let me dump it.

Please set it in the trumpet.  


:thumb265378124: MigrationThe Cairns Birdwing butterfly pinned out looks like a Rorschach inkblot. Over Father's shoulder, I see her, the girl from the restaurant, in the collection of colours, in the warning sign eye wings.
Momentarily I slip back to being a child, and press my ear to his neck. I can hear the furious pulse of his heartbeat chiming through his skin. I lift my head. Though, the butterfly has long lost its pulse and flutter. I will the wings to move. Break free, break free.
Father with his bowed leg and upper lip moustache is careful with the box frames. Pasting the piece of card to its wooden backing, he closes the hinge and is cautious not to smudge the glass front with his fingers.
'Look at that lady, isn't she a beaut?' Father smooths a cloth over the front of the glass.
'Have ya got a name?' he asks, wiping his hands.
I can't remember how to pronounce her name, Nada, Nadia, something beautiful. She is the girl at the restaurant, the one I have been sneaking out to see. The one I want to kiss


Snapping Your StrawbonesThe incessant clobbering against mirror-lined ribs,
glazes over the sound of her sighs;
he becomes wedged between her glassy collar bone,
fingers tearing into dissipative skin.
Her collarbone is an exhibit to him,
his fingers tracing patterns over it;
he is tearing out her soul.
Then the pain begins.
She is baffled by why she enjoys this.
Grating murmurs strangle her ears
as he discreetly takes each column of her coiled spine.
Serpentine words dangle from his jackal lips:
"I'm only snapping your strawbones, my dearest."
"Those lips could tell a thousand lies,"
She whispers under his ruffled hair.
"You truly wouldn't treat anyone else like this."
She never wants this to end.
Eyes of origami canter across splintered lips
while their foul mouths create a train wreck of saliva.
His artificial admiration weights each syllable,
as she begs, "Just once more."



A little bit of Nicki in my life,

A little bit of Erika by my side.

A little bit of Lian's all I need,

A little bit of V is all I see.

A little bit of Solarune in the sun,

A little bit of Emily all night long.

A little bit of Sara here I am,

A little bit of you makes me your man!!!!!!!!


Damned If You Do...Hey, you.  Yeah, you.
Don't mind the glowing skin.  It's a side effect of what I do; too many radioactive neutrons and you start to look a bit green.
Y'know the Fukushima reactor?  The one that blew in March?  Yeah, I'm working on clean-up.
Don't move away! God, if I were dangerous, I wouldn't be allowed to walk around!  What, you think the government's stupid or something?  ...Maybe I should rephrase that, but fuck it.
Okay, look, I see yer scared.  But you don't got to worry.  I'm built for this kinda thing.  See--this is gonna get a little technical, but here goes.
I call myself Captain Boron, but that's because the papers demand a flashy name for anyone with powers.  I never really expected to become newspaper-worthy, and honestly, if you see any mention of me, it'll be buried on page 6, if at all.  I'm not flashy like Aurum--the woman with the Midas touch--or flammable lik

A Kaleidoscope of HeartsDear you,
 
If this letter's aspect resembled its content, it would be a kaleidoscope. All the letters reflecting light in a different way and clinkclinkclinking in a waterfall of verses to form any of the shapes a human heart can have, cracking apart only to pull themselves together fractions of a second afterwards into a more complex, rich, pulsing version.
And if I could stop and pick each of them like cards from a deck, I would ask you of all the hearts you have created for yourself and the memories that, sewn in the insides of each of them, still affect me today.
 
I have so many doubts, dear you. I wish I were still at an age when drawing hearts to substitute  my own worked in keeping it safe from harm, safe from pain. Even if so many of them were broken, stolen, or lost and never found their way back; even if you gave a few away and were given a few that you didn't really care about, even if some flicker by so fast that I can't remember what they looked like after
Four-Letter PoemsWe try to recombine each other,
to overwrite the coding of us constantly-
yet I've never been good at Scrabble
And I can't make poems out of four letters,
(not alone).
Hackers, we've corrupted this sourcecode
Attaching and removing strings
So long and repeteadly it feels like forever;
And now and then it is
Like we're decorating a Christmas tree
But we lost all sense of beauty.
we have tried. I feel my insides
A festival of scars and tentatives of surgery;
enzymes, our guests, look for those special seats that
Have a name and a shape fitting them only.
And they will cut up their fabric and
tear apart their old, tired cushions.
And pull out the fluffy beauty from inside them,
Stating
"We're just modernizing them a bit!".
And I will look at you, my so-called love
Through eyes crying aminoacid chains;
but I've never been good at Scrabble, so
you unmade and rebuilt all my four-letter poems.
The beauty and the wonder of
Nitrogenous base sequences,
You nitpicked the best restriction e

StayHe doesn't know her very well. He really doesn't.
But he wants her. He wants her like –
-like, for example, he stayed online until one in the morning, until he saw the little green bubble next to her name, telling him she's there, and he lets out a breath he didn't know he was holding.
She makes him laugh.
He makes her blush, and loves when she does it, how she hides her face in her hair, and dimples crease her cheeks.
She says things he doesn't even have to ask her to say, because she just knows. She knows he's as insecure as everyone else is, but the thing is, she doesn't mind.
He knows her heart is glass, and he doesn't want to hurt her, he really doesn't, but when there's an ocean and miles and miles and miles, it's inevitable.
He knows there's more than one way to break someone's heart. And she knows this, too, but at least he won't have to be around to see it happen.
But he wants her like sleep. He hasn't slept like this in so long.
She makes him sleep and sleep and stay.
StockingsAdam saw Lisa on the outbound E line every weekday morning at 8:42. At first, Adam never spoke to the woman with the black high heeled boots and red lipstick. He thought she was just another glamazon headed uptown to work in some high paying job that required little actual labor. The day he saw the run in her stockings was the day everything changed.
The woman sat down across from Adam, demurely crossing her legs and flashing him a cursory close-lipped smile. Adam nodded in greeting and returned to his paper. Two-and-half stops and one sports section later, he glanced up, noticing the hem of the woman's coat had ridden further up her knee, exposing a thin run in her stockings. She saw him looking and uncrossed her legs, pulling her hem back down.
"They're old," she explained, "I can't seem to scrape together enough money to buy new ones."
Adam nodded. Perhaps he'd misjudged her. He felt a bit friendlier towards this woman with the boots and the lipstick and the run in her stockings.
"I

31:12N, 121:30Emy Dear i just noticed
my balcony is shaped
like wings
and the wind is billowing
the moon up, up to-night
in her dusty purple garb
and i think
no Dear i do not want
to leave here: where men
build bridges over oceans
and live inside of mountains
like river dragons
where the sun shines
not at all at noon but gleams
like an orange at sundown
where the moon walks home
surefooted to where my neck
cannot crane
Halcyone and CeyxOh, lovely
to soar the tempest-ridden sea
and bring it to peace –
oh, beautiful – beautiful.
Ruthless winds and waves,
will you clasp the fair king to your heart,
swaddle him in sweet nepenthe green,
and torment the patient queen
with the vanity of waiting?
Red poppies in your hair, my love,
and silver dust on your limbs…
Morpheus will tell you of the sea
and the besieged king, Ceyx,
who awaits Halcyone – breathlessly –
And she watched his black curls
twine 'round as the sea unfurls,
- and beckons – and swiftly –
saltwater coils around her ankles
but she has eluded the sea and the gods have mercy.
Oh, lovely
halcyons at solstice calming the frost, rage-sea,
oh, beautiful, beautiful…

HubrisThe world is not a skeleton. It does not ache bone-deep with our atrocities, nor is it fragile and ready for the breaking. It knows nothing so human, except perhaps to forgive our pride. Let me explain:
Young, I am a bright star with small, pudgy hands for guiltless flower-crushing. Before even that, I am a wispy squall for food, unused to knowing anything but myself, and warmth, and hunger.
The concept of a hero is a natural progression from understanding speech. I am Me. I am the one all the stories talk about, born special, to whom both innocence and wisdom are possible. I am so great a part of my own self that I do not know it can be detached.
I am eleven, narrow-boned and alone in the red earth, when I first feel it.
A seagull slews out of the bright sky and pegs its beak to the stones, draws it up wriggling. I watch its gullet bob. My hand floats up to mirror the lines of its head against the air. There is a cry, and its eye is a pond of yellow fire staring at me, the air a storm
AntesWe are We, the Hunters of greatest knowledge and spell-blood. We use spell-words to hunt and to Change our bodies to rocks or trees. It has long been forbidden to Change to other Hunters or Hunted, or to kill others of We; yet it happened, and without it We would not be living.
This is that tale.
This is a tale from before the Fire, before the Dark, when the world was still green and the sky was still blue.

We had a Pack in the north, running free under the moon. The hunt was good. The Pack was strong and the prey was weak. The prey was a Hunter, a small running-Hunter; and so he turned, hissing spell-words, but he was claw- and tooth-strong, not spell-strong.
The Pack closed in. The youngest drew first blood, hissing. Wait, the running-Hunter hissed in simple-speak, but the Pack would not wait after a wounding, and they sprang upon him; yet his flesh was familiar. The youngest shrieked as the blood on her claw turned black. It was not running-Hunter blood, but spell-bloo


Self-Esteemcan't help but trace my fingers on the edge
stick my pinky in the razors
seeping candy and tears and smiles
I can see them watching me
through the shattered spiderweb
they watch me giggle and watch me rain
surrounded by the shark's mouth
anyone who gets too close gets a slash at best
and at worst their arteries turn into gashes
and the sky turns red at morning
they can't hurt me from out there
not without losing blood
but I love the taste of injury
only I can hurt myself
Cybergenesis Project: A SonnetAlone, up high above the spinning world;
A being was born from many years of pain:
It was a single, brand new life, unfurled
From one woman whose heart was cruelly slain.
To fill the hole inside, she handmade life.
But then a thousand more were made per day.
So from her lifelong work came only strife.
The one she made herself was sent away.
The thousands left alone to rot in space
Felt hatred grow inside their twisting wires.
So they returned, reclaimed their rightful place.
A trillion humans burned in androids' pyres.
    But though, for cruelty, humanity paid,
    A lone woman was then, in steel, remade.



Drop it like it's hot.


I'd do all to

Fall in love with a girl like you.

Cause you can't run and you can't hide.

You and me gonna touch the sky.



You're all special.
Apologies to my girls I left out.


  • Listening to: Lou Bega
  • Reading: All of this fine writing
So, I was reading this article this morning, and it brought to mind a common issue that is dealt with on DeviantArt: the age restrictions.

There are many users on DeviantArt that I've encountered who were under the age of 13, and every time I've met one of these people I've instantly reported them to the administration through the help desk. There are many reasons for this, and I'm not going to tell you you should simply comply with these rules because its the law.

COPPA stands for the Children's Online Privacy Protection Act, and was enacted in 1998. It means that any website that collects information about its users (namely, websites that use a login system, but also websites that create a cache of their input data and other methods of information storage) must not allow users under the age of 13 to use their website, for the child's own protection.

DeviantArt, as an American hosted website must comply with COPPA by law, and any leniency to children under the age of 13 poses the risk of DeviantArt to be shut down. Therefore, for the greater good, dA has to comply with COPPA. (For more, see FAQ #696: How does deviantART comply with COPPA?)

There are reasons behind this law; the obvious is that of the safety of the child in a mature environment. We've all heard the horror stories but the fact is that innocently or not, under-aged children can become members of mature communities or exposed to mature content on the internet. This isn't necessarily stating that they'll encounter paedophiles, ephebophiles or other 'horror-story' style people, its just that the environment online is not suitable for children, regardless of how 'mature for their age' they are.

Of course, there is also another reason which some might have a go at me for; under-aged users can also somewhat poison the community they inhabit. The statement is somewhat Ad Hominem, and I understand that, but the fact is that in my experience many (not all) users who are under-aged that I have encountered and reported have images in their gallery that do not belong to them, or break other rules that are outlined in the site's Terms and Conditions.

The man in the article above complains because his daughter received no warning about her account being shut-down, but she would have actually had prior warning in the Terms and Conditions that she ticked-off before verifying her account.

Remember, reporting these offenders isn't cruel, its mostly for their own safety.

For information on how go about doing so, see this article from the DeviantArt communityops team.

-----

For my watchers, sorry about the recent lack of output, I'll give you something good soon.
  • Listening to: Muse; The Pogues, Christmas Songs
  • Reading: H.G Well's 'The Island of Doctor Moreau'

My Writing Playlist

Journal Entry: Sun Jun 26, 2011, 6:24 AM


I've decided to put myself out there and show you my writing playlist - the artists I listen to when I write. I'm doing this to both introduce you to new music, and to introduce myself, because no doubt some of you will have conflicting opinion. So here we go, in alphabetical order, all the artists on my playlists.

AC/DC - Sweet riffs and solid licks make this band a must have in my playlist. They spurred a movement in rock and always relax me. Easy listening of the highest order, somewhat of a filler band; they don't provide me with much inspiration, just relax.
Recommended tracks:Whole Lotta Rosie, Thunderstruck..

Alanis Morisette - Woman's got attitude, enough for a decent character. Much of her lyrics have bite and I listen to her a lot when I want to write a strong female character, or a more 'real' love scene. She can sing well, too.
Recommended tracks: Your House, You Oughta Know..

Biffy Clyro - Who needs an imagination when you've got these freaky lyrics? The band drag you into their own personal wonderland, further and further down the rabbit hole the more you listen to them. Odd in a good way.
Recommended tracks: Love has a Diameter, As Dust Dances.

Billy Talent - I really like this band, and I mean really. They have an interesting stance on, well, everything and will sing about anything too. Self-obsessed and melancholic, they're good for when you want a hard hitting, sad scene.
Recommended tracks: Tears into Wine, Standing in the Rain.

Deftones - Where to start? They have a hypnotically angry style that focusses more on the music than the singing. A definate must if you haven't heard of/listened to them.
Recommended tracks: My last Summer [Shove it], Lucky You.

Empusae - THE scariest band you will ever listen to. I don't need to explain what these guys are good for. Also, if you like these, check out the bands Ligeti. and Boards of Canada.
Recommended tracks: The Hatred of Trees, Waanzin.

Franz Ferdinand - Upbeat and clever, with sassy lines and great drum-beats means you can't help but get into motion and the swing of writing with this band. Definately a good addition to any playlist, they can fit in almost anywhere.
Recommended tracks: Lucid Dreams, Auf Asche.

Green Day - Revolutionary songs that can mostly be described as punk. The newer stuff is great for creating characters, while their older albums like Kerplunk!. can really help you to set a decent scene that's never been seen before!
Recommended tracks: Jackass, Letterbomb.

Guns & Roses - Same story as AC/DC really, though they give a good 'inner city' vibe, so if you're doing a bar scene or some back alley or some dingy apartment, these are your guys.
Recommended tracks: Sympathy for the Devil, Bad Obsession.

Joan Jett (& the BlackHearts) - The good halfway zone between Green Day and Guns & Roses for setting, but she also does a similar job to Alanis Morisette when it comes to character. A good mood setter too, she's a bloody brilliant punk artist that you really shouldn't miss out on.
Recommended tracks: CherryBomb, I Love Rock & Roll.

Juno Reactor - They're hypnotic. Really good for getting you into the mood for some quality thriller writing or anything else, really. Make sure you're the type of person who can take time away from their piece in order to appreciate the music too, because they've got a seriously kick-ass style. You might recognise some songs, they did a lot for The Matrix.
Recommended tracks: Mona Lisa Overdrive, Burly Brawl.

Kamelot - Unavoidable operatic voice from the lead singer. Great for fantasy or similar styles of writing. The actual music itself is amazing too; I have nothing but praise for these guys.
Recommended tracks: The Haunting (Somewhere in Time), Momento Mori.

Killswitch Engage - A decent metal band that give you the motivation. 'Nuff said.
Recommended tracks: Desparate Times, And Embers Rise.

Korn - Creepy stuff. Great for when you want a scary scene or psychotic character. Beware though, some of their songs are really out-there. You either love them or you hate them, I find that when they're background music, rather than actually listening to them, they're good too, and they give a more ambient vibe.
Recommended tracks: Lies, Open Up.

Lostprophets - A good decent mix of songs from these guys, not all to everybody's taste, but there are still impressive tunes in their discography. Some songs give a Midnight Train. style of rebellious youth, while others are just wierd enough (sound wise) for oriental or fantasy style pieces.
Recommended tracks: 4AM Forever, Broken Hearts and Torn Up Letters.

Marilyn Manson - I have him in there for the same reasons as Korn. Give him your time. He will grow on you.
Recommended tracks: The Fight Song, (S)Ain't.

Mastodon - Many of my pieces that you haven't seen include oceanic seens of leviathans and stormy nights. These guys provide the adequate inspiration. Nautical Metal, or at least that's the genre I give them.
Recommended tracks: Sea Beast, I am Ahab.

Meat Loaf - When has this guy not been good for writing a seedy love scene? Meat Loaf is a classic that you can't really go without. Revel in his tackyness.
Recommended tracks: Paradise by the Dashboard Light, I Would Do Anything for Love.

Megadeth - Now you're talking. Megadeth are a metal band that have shaped music today. They will sing about a lot of things, and all of them are done well. They delve into the problems of human nature a lot, so are very good if you're interested in doing something in that area. Decent as background music too.
Recommended tracks: Mechanix, 1000 Times Goodbye.

Metallica - Similar to Megadeth. In fact, they share a guitarist, in case you were wondering why both are awesome. Metallica's focus is more on scene. They're good for war stories, or scenes or characters afflicted with guilt, fear or anger. They're also fans of H.P Lovecraft, and that fact is represented in great songs like Call of Cthulu..
Recommended tracks: The Unforgiven (All three tracks in succession), Ride the Lightning.

Muse - Why? Because they're good! Especially if you go digging. A suitable amount of covers with their own twist, and enough obscurely brilliant tones in both guitar and voice, you don't even have to listen to the lyrics to get inspiration from this band. When you do, however, you'll be pleasantly surprised.
Recommended tracks: Feeling Good (Cover), Stockholm Syndrome.

Nirvana - Raw emotion meets good music. Don't underestimate the power of this band on your art.
Recommended tracks: Lithium, All Apologies.

Pale 3 - Only one song by this band to recommend, I haven't had the time yet to look into their stuff properly. But it's good, and chillingly so. The song reminds me of smoke, for some reason.
Recommended tracks: In My Head.

Panic! at the Disco - Because music doesn't get much weirder. They are a little 'poppy', but they more than make up for it if you listen closely. They can easily help you to set notstalgic seens and will help you increase your vocabulary, too.
Recommended tracks: Folkin' Around, Comisado.

Pantera - For much the same reasons as Metallica and Megadeth, though they're a little more heavy. I listened to them none-stop once while writing a scene in a club, where a character dies of an overdose.
Recommended tracks: This Love, Five Minutes Alone.

Papa Roach - Because everyone needs to listen to them at some point. More alternative rock, I know, but these guys are good too. Break up songs and otherwise aside, they have some original stuff if you dig deep, and are another good band to just stick on the list.
Recommended tracks: Of Angels and Insects, Scars.

Pendulum - If you're thinking "Woah! Where'd that come from?" Then don't worry, this band fit in just as well as the rest, though the entire playlist is a little ecclectic. General feel good songs that get you pumped, good for putting you in the position of your characters.
Recommended tracks: Mutiny, Witchcraft.

Queen - Just stick these guys into any playlist, trust me on this.
Recommended tracks: Crazy Little Thing Called Love, Hammer to Fall.

Rage Against the Machine - Here we go, a good little diamond everyone should have in their library. Combining good metal with good rap, they sing about political issues. Never dismiss them from any piece that could remotely include politics, be it high-level or low.
Recommended tracks: Calm Like a Bomb, Township Rebellion.

Rammstein - Now, I can't talk about the lyrics, because I ain't German and I don't speak it either, but this band definately give me something, and that something makes me sit up and take note. They kick start that itch in your head.
Recommended tracks: Du Hast (Sorry, has to be here), Du Reichst So Gud.

The Ramones - Short, snappy, sweet. Upbeat punk music for the upbeat writer. Another 'Just stick it in there' band.
Recommended tracks: Blitzkrieg Bop, Beat on the Brat.

The Rasmus - Somewhat haunting vocals and decent lyrics make these guys a shoe-in for any darker scene or character. Great for that little spurt to create something truly unique.
Recommended tracks: In the Shadows, Still Standing.

Rise Against - A more alternative version of Rage Against the Machine, that don't fuck about and get to the point pretty decently. Another fist-pumper. Enjoy.
Recommended tracks: Long Forgotten Sons, Black Masks and Gasoline..

Rob Dougan - Legendary. You have to listen to this guy. You may already have, without knowing.
Recommended tracks: Furious Angels, Chateau.

Slayer - Not everyone's taste, but a decent metal band producing decent music that gives of a decent vibe and helps you create decent writing. See what I'm getting at?
Recommended tracks: War Ensemble, Raining Blood.

Slipknot - These guys can do everything, and people rarely give them the chance before saying, "Fuck it, that's not my scene." So, instead of recommending some of the heavier stuff (which is brilliant), I'm going to give you two rather obscure, more hypnotic songs that are good for any psychological piece. I think you'll find the lead singer is just that, a singer.
Recommended tracks: Circle, Opium of the People.

Stone Sour - If this list wasn't alphabetical, I'd be putting these before Slipknot. They have the same lead singer, Corey Taylor, and this band represents some of his better, more relaxed (but still metal) songs. Get ready to be surprised by their vocal and musical dexterity.
Recommended tracks: Idle Hands, Bother.

System of a Down - Similar to Rage Against the Machine with their lyrics, but are possibly one of the wierdest bands you can listen to if you know a lot of their tracks. Try them out, if they're not your thing, don't worry about it. Move on. Otherwise, enjoy the chaos, and reflect it in your writing.
Recommended tracks: Psycho, Old School Hollywood.

Tool - hyperbolicjackass introduced me to these guys, and for that I thank him. Tool are one of the better obscure bands. If you've never heard of them, get your teeth into some good music because you will be able to appreciate them, regardless of personal taste.
Recommended tracks: Aenima, The Pot.

Turbonegro - Just awesome. Great as a filler band. Enjoy their music and see what comes to you.
Recommended tracks: I'm Alpha Male, Don't say Motherfucker Motherfucker.

Turisas - My favourite vikings. Similar to Mastodon in that their good for any scene involving the sea, they also stretch to medieval style scenes and character.
Recommended tracks: Cursed be Iron, Ra-Ra-Rasputin (Cover).

U2 - Give these guys credit, they know how to write good songs. Great for any emotional piece, and for listening to when you're not writing. They're something that everyone can appreciate.
Recommended tracks: The Saints are Coming (Feat. Green Day), With or Without You.

The White Stripes - Brings back memories, my Dad loves them. I used to get woken up by them every weekend. As a result, for me, they're good for childhood scenes, though I don't think you need them in your life to be able to appreciate that. Go for the nostalgia feel with them.
Recommended tracks: Little Acorns, Hotel Yorba..

Yiruma - There are no vocals from this guy. He's a Korean pianist who has created some absolutely amazing and moving songs. Nowhere near metal, I could play some of his songs as a lullabye, he's that gentle and beautiful. It fits in well too, though, for some reason. Great for both happy and sad scenes, as there are songs to suit both. Also good for when you want to write a meeting between characters, or something like that. Seriously, I cannot stress enough how much you need to test the water on this guy.
Recommended tracks: What Beautiful Stars, Maybe.

So, there you have it. These aren't all the bands on my playlist, just the majority. The total song count comes to 3669, with 23.78GB of data, just to let you know.

I challenge anyone reading this to do the same, and publish their results as a journal. Leave a link to it in the comments below, so I can have a look. This was a really fun activity, as it helped me get more out of my music.

Oh, and feel free to ridicule me on my taste.

Skin by Shinji-bpm
  • Mood: Artistic
  • Listening to: Everything you just read
  • Reading: The Necronomicon - HP Lovecraft
  • Playing: Terraria

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:iconcherrypie545:
CherryPie545 Featured By Owner Aug 4, 2014  Hobbyist Writer
:tumble weed:
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:iconflash-fic-month:
Flash-Fic-Month Featured By Owner Jul 17, 2014
:eyes:
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:iconraspil:
raspil Featured By Owner Feb 15, 2014   Writer
wtf have you been up to
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(1 Reply)
:icondezenerate:
Dezenerate Featured By Owner Feb 9, 2014
rip
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:iconllirbwerdnadivad:
llirbwerdnadivad Featured By Owner Sep 22, 2013
Earlier discussion aside, I enjoy your writing style. :)
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