What’s the strangest place inspiration has ever found you? Some of my best lines have shown up when I didn’t have my notebook, my “writer mood,” or even a second to breathe. Inspiration is honestly feral. It doesn’t knock. It breaks in. Maybe it found you: in the shower in a doctor’s office waiting room half-asleep at 3AM at work (when you absolutely were not supposed to be thinking about poetry) in the middle of an argument in the grocery store aisle holding pasta like it held your entire life together ✨ Tell us: what’s the strangest place inspiration ever hit you—and what did it give you? A line? A scene? A character? A whole plot? Bonus points if you drop the line/idea you captured from that moment 👀

One of the strangest parts of being a writer is this: We carry compliments like secret lanterns… and we carry criticism like splinters — even when it’s true. So let’s talk about both. Not to self-doubt… but to grow. What’s the best compliment you’ve ever received on your work? (What line, comment, or reaction stayed with you?) What’s the most accurate criticism you’ve ever received? (The kind that stung… because it was right.) 💬 Drop your answers below — and if you want, tell us what it changed in your writing afterward. This is a safe space. No egos. Just craft. 🖤

Lost in the roses, amidst a storm, the rain falls heavy, painful and course. The thorns wrap and twine like nettled horns. Scraping at your skin and Scaping the land. A maze dull and furrowed. You fall and relent to your heads thoughts furrowed You weep, the rain pouring on stinging cuts that sing with every drop amidst the pain. Hopeless is your journey. Or so it feels. You seep into the running soil. Weeping your fears to the very bush that cut you down and wounded you. Alas you find comfort in its slight shade. The rain is not as heavy. The leaves splatter the rain providing shade. In which a long while you lay. How this journey began you do not know, only that you feel you can no longer go. The sun has not shined in the days you cry and weep. Ailments fill your lungs, sickness begins to creep. The rain. The rain. When will alas you will succumb to your pain Eventually you sleep. For a long time. The rain. Still brushes, but you no longer feel it. You no longer feel anything. Just cold and numb. Eventually you wake up. You are in a dissaray from your coma. You realize with aching disbelief. The rain is slowed. Not gone but slowed. A hand is out reached. You feel a warmth from his gaze a stranger you do not know and yet you know him. You grab his hand and he leads you out of the tormenting roses and the hard rain. A wall rises on the edge. He climbs on top reaching out to aid you over, he slips onto the other side. You cannot see him, but you can hear him. He assures you he is fine and you will overcome the wall and continue your journey together. It seems hopeless once more. You wait and wait and wait, and he speaks every now and then assuring you he's not going anywhere. You feel it fruitless that one should hang around for dead weight, you wait sitting there for ages your new friend your only company, although a wall divides you you grow closer. Eventually, you cannot take the pain of his distance any longer, you stand, you walk a fair distance, and run to the wall and jump. You slide down the stone wall, palms scraped. You do it again. And again and again. Knees, hands arms, he hears the thuds and heavy dropping over and over, he wonders what you're doing. You keep trying to scale the wall. Days and days go by. A million trys. One last.. one last try. You decide one more time before you're left to die. You walk, and turn one last time. You run exhausted. And jump, and put every unsaid word and thought and jump as high as you can. You slide, a brief thought. "I've failed again." Suddenly a clasp. You found a foothold. You hang on with weakened strength and look for another, and another. And begin to climb. You're body aching from all the failed times. You reach the top and hang from the edge, trying to move strength to your legs to reach up. You swing over and over. Eventually it hits the top and you pull with everything you have and lay atop of the wall. And breathe. You're friend has not gone forgotten, but rather silent, you peer down and seek. He is tired, withered and meek.

A wilted flower withered and weathered A single blow could push it like a feather. No water to quench it's dying thirst. alone in a barren field. The sun is gone. Darkness and frivolous chill constantly nip the air. Doomed to succumb shall it. Years go by. And yet that flowers tiny roots hold on by a thread. To see the changing world. Decades go by, only to feel lonesome and hopeless. Still the flower must hold on. Each year the roots break and die. But this year something anew. A sprout. A glimmer of sun and warmth. The roots take place once more healing within. As the sprout grows so do other things, the field is no longer barren. The Sun shines more brightly. At last another flower grows and blooms beside the withered one. And it is the same of the same kind. They dance in the wind a language all their own just to intertwine their roots and hold firm. They are still young, but they are intertwined, and found the perfect match to bring them back to life. They hold strong even on the darkest days. They hold tight.

I cant live without you, your smile Though youre tempermental as a child Prone to giving me a cold shoulder And to keeping count as I get older Laughing at me till my cheeks burn Disappearing at every turn of the earth And today you feel 93 million miles away. I know you think you can do better You say Im only using you to change the weather But thats not true. Sure there are plenty of stars And Ill admit I like Venus and Mars a bit But they’re far away And you’re near. But its so frustrating that you cant you deal with your emotions Why are you running off to Artic oceans, melting glaciers And stranding the polar bears? You keep leaving me unexpectedly In the middle of spring. You thought I didnt care But you dont know how I cried Every time you’d hide your love affairs Behind a veil of clouds. Why are you always too busy for me Why do you think its ok to ignore me These days Im so desperate to get your attention Ive even thought about cheating on you With the moon. Feel free to leave any feedback or suggestions!