Achievements
The Sovereign Ink
There is a common delusion among phantoms that because they occupy a corner of a memory, they somehow hold the pen. When a name ripples through a piece of writing, or an old echo from twenty years ago provides the raw spark for a paragraph, the ghost often mistakes themselves for the creator. They look at the architecture of the prose, the depth of the emotion, and the fierce gravity of the words, and they flatter themselves with the belief that they are the ones driving the current. But a muse is not an architect; a muse is just a passing stone thrown into an ocean that was already infinitely deep.
By Syl De'Vil9 days ago in Writers
Honoring Black Inventors everywhere.. Top Story - October 2026.
Honoring Black Inventors I am just as surprised as some readers may be at discovering the myriad of everyday inventions we take for granted, never knowing how they came to be. I am sharing some of these ideas by amazing people we never hear about. Let's begin with some of these smart Black women.
By Novel Allen12 days ago in Writers
The Sovereign Current
There is a profound difference between a room that is locked and a sky that is simply too vast to measure. For a long time, the game was played on a very small board, defined by the heavy, predictable rules of localized gravity and careful, measured distances. But some currents cannot be contained by blueprints, and some energies refuse to be sorted by a laboratory filter. When the climate changes completely, it doesn't happen with a subtle shift in barometric pressure; it happens because the central axis has completely moved. The world doesn't rotate around an immovable anchor in an empty room; it follows the light that refuses to stay still.
By Syl De'Vil12 days ago in Writers
The Room No One Used
On her first morning at the Hawthorne Public Library, she was shown a room no one seemed to remember. It sat at the end of a quiet hallway beyond the bustling children's area, beyond the computers where adults worked in silence, beyond the shelves that received constant attention and care.
By Kristen Barenthaler13 days ago in Writers
Writing or Cleaning
Today, before it becomes the rainy season, I have decided to Fall Clean the house or at least most of it. I have already started washing curtains and prepared a spot outside to lay rugs that I am going to scrub after hanging the curtains outside to dry. The day is cool now and when the sun comes out it will be nice and curtains and rugs will smell so much better. Getting ready to vacuum area rugs soon. When I finish Fall cleaning, I will definitely become a very prolific writer of Micro fiction.
By Mark Graham18 days ago in Writers
Successes and Failures That Are Successes
It dawned on me that it’s October, and it’s been about a year since I had a story published in Boudin Literary Magazine. It was actually published on Halloween, as it was a special Halloween issue. I was excited to have gotten published in this publication which is one of a few affiliated with McNeese State University. And it felt pretty special to get published on Halloween. A holiday publication?? What’s that, like extra bonus points or something? (It was basically on Halloween, anyway.)
By Stephen Kramer Avitabile23 days ago in Writers
Notes from the Mind Palace.
I don’t want a hero for the sake of having one. I don’t need saving, and I don’t want someone who thinks I do. I’ve carried myself through storms that would have drowned softer hearts. I’ve rebuilt myself more times than I care to admit. Strength has been my armor, my identity, my survival.
By Syl De'Vil24 days ago in Writers
Notes from the Mind Palace
I am a woman made of words, but don’t mistake that for someone who can be won with them. Words are my playground, my refuge, my rebellion — but they are not my currency. I’ve heard too many promises spoken with honeyed tongues and hollow hearts. I’ve watched too many men decorate their intentions with poetry while their actions whispered the truth.
By Syl De'Vil24 days ago in Writers
If Only
There are women who learned love the hard way, women who stitched themselves back together with stubborn hope and quiet magic. Women who walk through the world with a softness that looks effortless but was carved from storms. Women who survived what should have broken them and still somehow learned to laugh again.
By Syl De'Vil24 days ago in Writers
