Category: Junior Literary

every writer knows the feeling of being stuck. there’s this overwhelming urge to write something, but i never know what. alternatively, i could have so many things to write about, but no clear way to express it. while both are inconvenient options, nothing beats the blissful experience of producing 8 poems of mediocre quality in a matter of 15 minutes. maybe the stars lined up just right so my motivation and content overlap, but nonetheless, something was created.

oftentimes, i, as a writer, forget that quality and quantity both have their place in my craft. sometimes i just want to get up and write something, even if no one will see it – even if i’ll delete it after 5 minutes because it sounds like a lovesick 13-year-old on A03 wrote it. motivation can be the hardest part, so if you have motivation, but not content, remember that your laptop, notebook, typewriter, or table napkin – are all safe spaces, exclusive to you if you wish them to be. there is a reason you’re being called to write, so let it out.

alas, my venting is over, and i will be facing my fears of releasing previously mentioned word vomit, right here, right now. unanswered, the work below, was written from 2:48am to 2:59am on Monday, September 6, 2020.

sometimes i want to pray for you,
in the middle of the night,
i can feel your crying in my soul,
i can feel you losing a fight.
but i know it’s not my place,
to try to heal your pain,
so sometimes i fall asleep
to the sound of the rain,
and it’s like you’re next to me,
but i know that you’re not,
still, if i can’t be near you,
at least there’s a thought.

so i hope you feel better,
and i hope you feel love,
and i hope that you will be
everything you wanted to become,
i hope your smile gets brighter,
and your shoulders feel lighter,
i hope you know that you’re a lover,
even when you try to be a fighter.
i hope you’ll let me pray for you
on the nights you start hurting,
and i hope you find it,
for whatever it is you’re searching.

Once upon a time, there was a frog. And this frog was purple.

Kidding!! The fact that there is a purple frog is irrelevant. I just thought I’d tell you. 

The actual story goes like this:

She hid in the corner, hugging her toy, knees drawn to her chest. Her parents had been fighting for hours, believing her to have already been asleep. She sniffed and pulled her special elephant closer, whispering in its ear, “take me away from here.” Soon her eyes became heavy, weighed down by her hopes and wishes. She began to drift and doze, now fast asleep in the corner.  

A soft breeze, as gentle as a mother, brushed across her face, and she woke up to find, to her astonished surprise, a land unlike any other. And as she lay there, a gray blob began to approach her from a little ways away. But it was just her elephant! Her elephant scooped her up with his trunk and placed her on his back. Then he showed her his world. 

She got to meet tiny elves and flower toads, midget bears and giant boads, even hollow tree slides and great swing vines. Her elephant took her on such grand adventures! Swimming in the Deep Shallows, Climbing the Twisty Trees, and Exploring the Sandy Castles. He even took her to the Great Palace where she met Empress Peacock, who ruled the land perfectly so that all her subjects were happy. The little girl was proud of her elephant, for he was the Grand adviser, who always had an answer and who was never wrong. 

At the end of the day, when the whole kingdom was having a festival, the little girl leaned toward her friend’s ear, and whispered, “Thank you, my precious Elephant.”  

~~~

So, while this little girl’s parents tore each other apart and broke this little girl’s heart over and over;   She remembered that she always had her Elephant.

And elephants never forget.

But they do forgive. 

     Inspiration was yet to strike the young artist. Minutes passed. Then hours passed. Eventually, days had passed. Hands were twirled. Sentences were typed. But, none felt inspired enough. 

     So, naturally the artist did what anyone dedicated to their craft would do, she procrastinated. She made brownie cookies. (yummy btw (:) She rearranged an entire home. She even attempted to watch paint dry.  Finally a light bulb went off over her head. She would write about procrastinating, one of her favorite past times. Quickly she reached for her laptop and began to type. 

     Fingers danced across the keys elegantly to push the ideas out of her skull so she wouldn’t get distracted. (she was still distracted) Her eyes were fixed the screen like it was a binge-worthy show. After a few minutes, maybe hours of working she let out a satisfied sigh. Here’s the finished result of the poem. The following poem is the original work of Taylor Lafayette titled, “Procrastination.”

I  will  do  it

One  day 

What  is  such  a  task  that  demands  my  efforts?

One  day 

It  shall  get  done

But,  now  is  NOT  the  time

The  sun’s  too  low 

And  I’m  feeling  ill

Excuses  accumulate  in  my  lap

Not  a  bone  in  my  body  wants  to  be  put  to  motion

So  I  rest  them  now  and  pending

If  my  position  changes 

So  does  the  weather

I  will  do  it 

One  day 

But,  Today’s  not  that  day 

What  is  such  a  task  that  demands  my  efforts?

     Sometimes procrastination does work. Keep procrastinating friends, just pinkie promise to not tell your parents or teachers I said that. (it’s our little secret, u pinkie promised)

 

When I watch the clouds dissolve in the sky

I think of you, I see you

your beautiful mind, your radiant soul 

maybe, just maybe

that’s the reason I run to my window and lay my head on its sill when I’m sure I’m screaming my last cry for help 

into the vastness of absolute nothing 

I don’t want to leave you screaming at the sky 

But why should I continue to be left in defeat 

Because just like the clouds

You’ll come 

and 

You’ll go 

I wanted to share this piece because it’s the first piece I’ve written in a while when feeling down. I forgot how helpful writing is when your brain is scrambled and fighting against you. Mental health is so important and I’m so happy I discovered writing as one of my coping mechanisms. I hope that this piece will encourage a reader of mine to write the next time they feel down like we all do at times. It’s so relieving to get your thoughts down on paper and out of your mind. If you haven’t tried it, DO IT and drink some water while you do. 🙂

I’m allowing myself to fully devolve into a basic white girl for this one. There will be an appreciation for pumpkin spice, big sweaters, and vanilla lattes, so be warned. If I owned a pair of Uggs, they’d probably be mentioned too. 

So, now since that’s out of the way, let’s get talking SPOOKY SEASON.

The chill breeze in the air, the subtle scent of autumn baked goods, and the hidden unshaved legs of women everywhere give the season such a joyful and chill vibe– one I look forward to every year. Walmart and other superstores have started bringing out their Halloween decorations, and my wallet’s getting skinnier by the second. My shopping cart’s constantly full of little pumpkin and cinnamon apple candles with costume accessories littered over them. Sweater weather is in full swing, and you bet I’m getting ready for it. Knit sweaters and corduroy pants are all I’m gonna be wearing, baby. Time to crack open my dark lipstick and a jug of apple cider because I’ve been waiting for this for ages.

Halloween has been my favorite holiday for most of my life, as I always loved to dress up in costumes and watch the Halloween specials on TV. Even today, I have a personal tradition of watching Cartoon Network’s Over the Garden Wall every October that’s lasted for a few years now. My fingers are itching to start carving pumpkins, brew pumpkin spice coffee, and stitch together costumes to wear. 

Of course, things are definitely going to be different now with Covid-19 knocking on everyone’s doors, but the spirit of autumn and Halloween will live on! I am certain of it. So go out there and get your vanilla lattes and eat discounted chocolate; you deserve it!

“When anxiety was great within me, your consolation brought me joy.”

Psalms 94: 19 NIV 

This is the Bible verse I picked as my bio, mainly as a reminder to myself. It’s a reminder to say that, even if my nerves are a huge tangle, stuck in the darkest pits of my stomach, and my head is filled with crippling worries and fears, I can let the Holy Spirit take them away, and move forward.
This first week at MSA has been an exciting new adventure, but also a terrifying one. With new schedules, food, and people, it is very easy to allow yourself to become overwhelmed, which is where belief comes in. And whether you believe in spirits, higher beings, or just in yourself, everybody believes in something.

The thing about belief is that it seems very solid, something that will hold you up forever, when in reality it’s only as strong as your resolve. I say this not about the belief in a religion, but about the belief we have in ourselves.
The belief we have in ourselves could be connected to our self-esteem, courage, boldness, etc. and it can be very fragile.

Imagine the belief we have in ourselves is like a stained-glass window. The better you clean it, the better you can see the colors shine through it. But if you don’t clean it, you’re allowing dust, and dirt, and grime to hide the beautiful colors, and the glass can’t shine.

So now that you have that image in your head, change the stained-glass into your belief in yourself and when you clean it, when you polish it, that is when you are encouraging yourself, ignoring your anxiety and stepping out boldly, and when people are complimenting you and telling you how glorious you are, just to name a few examples.

But if you stop cleaning your stained-glass, that is when you start to feel like, maybe the people complimenting you didn’t mean it, or maybe I’m not good enough, or maybe I can’t do anything right. And sometimes these thoughts can last a really, really long time. And you feel stuck. You give up trying to clean your stained- glass window.

Let me tell you a not-so-secret-secret:
EVERYBODY CAN FEEL THIS WAY!!!!
All humans collectively struggle with this All The TIME!!!!

But because it is something that everyone struggles with, we all understand. and it can be very hard to start cleaning your window if you haven’t done it in a while. Plus, it will probably take more than one cleaning before you see any progress, depending on long your window has stayed dirty. That is when you hire a cleaner.

Now this cleaner, it could be a therapist, a counselor, a really, really good friend, But there is no shame in getting up to clean your window.

I will say it again: There Is No Shame In Getting Help Cleaning Your Window!!

So, surround yourself with supporters. With friends and family who will lift you up. Surround yourself, with people, who will help you clean your window, so you can shine for all to see.

Because You, are a Beautiful Stained-Glass Window.

My first week at MSA has been surreal and such an amazing adventure. I’ve been waiting months to walk on the ragged wooden floors and get punked by the ghosts that haunts the floors (and apparently likes to open and close my door throughout the night). I’m not sure though, it’s a good chance it was just Mrs.Holmes. BUT I’m finally here and I’m dreading going home. 

The minute I stepped through the doors I was greeted by such amazing people. People I now call my bestest friends and have great confidence they will be for a long time. That’s one of my favorite parts about MSA so far. The ability to literally be anything and anyone you want to be with nothing but 100% full support from your peers. 

You know the feeling you get when you come home from a concert and you have that “washed over” feeling that you’re not the same person you were before you went? That’s how I feel when I leave every class I have. The teachers are amazing and so excited to share the knowledge they have and I’m so eager to hear everything they have to say. It’s weird right? A teenager excited for class. That only happens in movies if the main character has a secret crush on the person they just so happen to sit beside, but it’s reality at MSA. 

It doesn’t matter that I’m not getting the full experience that I’ve heard about from graduated students. I am so thankful to be here and have this amazing opportunity given to me. I can’t wait to see the amazing things me and my classmates will accomplish this year, and the next.

 

I’ve been staring at this blank screen for ages, and I’m not quite sure how I want this to begin. I’m also running out of time to come up with something for my first post, so I’m really gripping the roots of my hair here to think of an introduction. 

I suppose the best way to start off would be with the basics. My name is Lauren Stamps, and I’m a sixteen-year-old junior literary student at the Mississippi School of the Arts. I enjoy writing, playing games, watching shows and movies ( ̶m̶o̶s̶t̶l̶y̶ ̶a̶n̶i̶m̶e̶), doing arts and crafts, and analyzing media and human culture. As for my plans for the future, I’m not sure. I’d obviously enjoy being a professional fiction writer, but that’s probably unlikely to happen. I’m still figuring out what I want to do, but being a journalist, an English/creative writing teacher, or having a research career in Anthropology or Psychology would be nice. I’m going with a ‘go with the flow’ attitude, hoping that future me will go on a sort of soul-searching journey in life and figure out what she wants to spend the rest of it doing. I understand that I will one day be that girl and will have to make these tough decisions myself, but that’s not my problem yet, you get me? 

Enough about writing about things that give me anxiety; let me get straight to the point. What am I planning to do with this blog?

In short: I’m not entirely sure. I’ll probably just come on here to write about what I enjoy or talk about things I feel like need to be talked about. I have some ideas to write about cringe culture, the beauty industry, movies I like, and a few other possibilities here and there. Maybe I’ll even post a bit of my literary work if I’m confident enough in it. Essentially what you’d expect from a blog like this from a person like me, really. I hope whatever comes out of this is pleasant or entertaining, or, at the very least, better than this first entry. Preferably with actual structure, too, but we’ll just have to wait and see.