Articles written by Janene Ryan

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About me - Janene Ryan

My story is still being written. Right now, I'm on chapter 3 - at 30 years old. However, I can see chapter four is already in the works.

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Creative Writing > Novel Excerpts Serial fiction: Suspense: 10 of 126

It's a drizzly Tuesday morning and I'm standing on Barker Avenue waiting for the 24, headed to the east side of the city, to pull in at its scheduled time of 8:18. There are a half dozen other's, not with me, but waiting. However, I pay them the least bit of attention. There's the young Asia guy and girl that's probably head...
Creative Writing > Poetry Poetry: Struggle in life: 40 of 383

Colored Women She is high toed knee deep in colored sin wearing the black of pitch and red of whores her skin, yellow like geechies bathed in dust we women all want what she has endured smiles drenched in assurance and hips to match a walk that boisterously whispers come take what you think is yours and own it now later is f...
Creative Writing > Poetry Poetry: Spiritual: 163 of 596

Choosing To Die When I woke up this morning I came to a decision I looked myself in the mirror and said "You Must Die" I declared a suicide on my life The kind that puts you in a grave but no underground My flesh had to die I started with my head Not only did I cast down every imagination but I beat it to a pulp I cleaned ou...
Creative Writing > Short Stories Short stories: Christmas tales: 18 of 65

Fighting Over G-d Everyone was here, well, mostly everyone. Despite their complaints of not wanting to track through the freshly fallen white beast that was now blanketing the entire east coast, they made it. It was good to see everyone as it always was. And a holiday made it all that more special. It was Christmas, or Chanu...
Creative Writing > Satire Satire: Infatuation: 2 of 7

I'm what they call in my hood a redbone; which means I'm a light/fair skinned black woman. Now, for a lot of woman, they have no problem with this term. In fact, they use it to their advantage especially in the south. But me, I despise it! There is nothing about me red, except, maybe, the tints in my hair. I don't have that ...
Creative Writing > Poetry Poetry: Anger: 104 of 360

You rest in my bosom and suckle from my breast as a newborn draining me of all life's resources It was you, oh anger who first introduced me to fear and resentment having the two tag along like an inseparable trio Anger, the attribute so many other possess but I claim you as my own like a lover giving me the comfort I long f...
Creative Writing > Reflections Reflections: On aging: 50 of 67

Today is my 30th birthday and I'm just realizing what that means. To some, it means getting themselves more established - in what ever they're already doing (i.e. career, family, finances, etc.) But for me it means something totally different. To me, turning 30 means adding; adding to the bullshit already in my life (i.e. ca...
Creative Writing > Poetry Poetry: Self-image: 118 of 153

I AM ... MY HAIR I AM the strength The length And the locks that hold my people together Forming unbreakable ropes of pride and dignity That has been rendered inappropriate and disgraceful MY HAIR Maintaining its colored richness Like rainbows from far away lands Mixing browns and reds to flaunt its deep texture And complime...
Creative Writing > Reflections Reflections: Purpose: 21 of 27

I'm sitting here trying to edit this novel I've written and I'm about to lose my mind. I had no idea, although I have an English degree with an emphasis in creative writing, that editing was such a pain in the butt. Sure, I've edited many works before others as well as my own but never anything to this degree. I'm realizing ...
Creative Writing > Novel Excerpts Novel excerpts: Struggle: 28 of 35

Frustrated and confused Tasha knew she had to make some changes in her life. As she lay in her bed staring at the white bland ceiling, all she could think about was the turmoil she had been through in the past five years. Although she had no money to redecorate she needed and wanted a fresh start. So, what else was there to ...