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Here at TalentedWritersGuild, we encourage deviants to select only their best pieces of literature for submission. We look for pieces that simultaneously move us, challenge us, and inspire us as readers; pieces that stimulate us emotionally and intellectually; and the pieces that display true technical skill. To ensure this level of quality, we have judges who consider all these things, and let only the pieces they deem up to snuff through to the gallery. The purpose of this is to push our submitters to excel, challenge themselves, and improve their craft, and to provide our readers with high quality literature to read.

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Chaptered Work
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:star: Previous Admin Hall of Fame :star:

mellowghost founded #TWG and recruited the first panel of admin. #TWG would not be here without him!

OritPetra served as Founder for more than a year, and used her mad lit community skills to increase our outreach. She was also one of the first admin recruited by mellowghost.

nngross was one of the first admin recruited by mellowghost and is the second-longest serving admin, at 2+years!

Emocinderella was one of the first admin recruited by mellowghost; she served as voting admin for more than a year!

angelStained served as an admin for over a year.

beautyinreview served as an admin for over a year.

Fearless Leader

Fearful Leader

Newest Members




Rules and Guidelines.

- 1 -
Above all else, respect your fellow deviants. TalentedWritersGuild is a place for the collection, discussion, encouragement, and improvement of high quality literature. To truly achieve this goal we must all work together to create a safe and positive environment conducive to personal and creative growth. As such, inflammatory or violent behavior, personal attacks, and disrespect will not be tolerated. Intelligent debates and level critiques, however, are warmly welcomed as long as the participating/receiving deviants are open to them.

- 2 -
Select only your best work for submission. All work must be literature-based. You are also more than welcome to submit the work of other deviants as well. If you see a quality piece that deserves more recognition, please send it our way!

- 3 -
Please understand that your work will be subject to a judging process. Not all work makes it through. This does not mean that your piece is "bad." Please respect the judges' decisions and do not harass them. Belligerent or violent behavior will result in banning. See below for a further discussion of the judging process.

- 4 -
Submissions are limited to two poems and one prose piece per week, and two chaptered submissions per month (i.e. biweekly). This is to ensure quality rather than quantity. Anything in excess of this will be automatically declined. All piece must be submitted to the appropriate folder. Incorrectly submitted pieces will be automatically denied.

- 5 -
The only form of literature we will not consider is fan fiction. This is not a judgment on the art of fan writing. Rather, it is simply because our judges are not familiar enough with the vast variety of fandoms out there to be able to properly judge the work. Please see here for a further discussion of the reasoning behind this decision.

- 6 -
Unfortunately, we are not able to provide feedback on declined submissions. This is for two reasons: 1. The work submitted here should be your best. Not a rough draft, not a work-in-progress, not the latest poem you dashed off that your best friend thinks is brilliant. It should be edited, polished, as finished as it's going to be. and 2. The judges are busy people. They put a lot of time and effort into judging each submission, and they also have outside commitments as well. There are, however, several groups around that are completely devoted to feedback and critique, and we encourage you to participate in those as well.


The judges here at TalentedWritersGuild are: LadyofGaerdon, angeljunkie, nngross, QuiEstInLiteris, LadyLincoln, GrimFace242, and TwilightPoetess. This team was carefully selected to bring together deviants with differing literary styles, approaches, and preferences. This has and does promote active behind-the-scenes discussion on the pieces we receive, culminating in a voting process that involves the careful consideration of each and every piece's strengths and weaknesses. If, for example, we are not certain how we would like to vote on a certain piece, we will discuss it with each other, reaching a decision through teamwork, critical analysis, and, sometimes, gut feelings and intuition. This helps to alleviate some of the difficulties that arise from the esoteric and subjective nature of deciding what constitutes 'quality' literature.

To pass into our gallery, every submission, including those of the admins, are subjected to a 3 yes/ no vote. We ask you to keep this in mind if your piece is declined. A rejection does not mean that your piece is not 'quality literature.' It simply means that three admins voted 'no' on it. Two of us very well could have voted 'yes' and, indeed, submissions often come down to the wire like this. Rejection is a part of writing, both here and (even more so) professionally, and we request that you accept this before deciding to submit your work for consideration. If your work is declined, please do not take offense, argue the decision, or behave disrespectfully towards the judges. We make our decisions carefully, and as long as you appreciate that, we'll get on famously.

All decisions made on submissions are final, but we do encourage you to seek out critique and resubmit after changes have been made.

Thank you for your interest in TalentedWritersGuild. We hope to read your pieces, see you around, and get to know you. Take care and be well.


:wave: Hello, dearest members! LadyofGaerdon here to continue our series:

Featured Deviant of the Month 



 January's Featured Deviant is..........:eager:


TalentedWritersGuild is a literature group committed to the encouragement, collection, and archival of high quality prose and poetry works. To find out more about the group, please click here.

 Here at TalentedWritersGuild, we encourage deviants to select only their best pieces of literature for submission. As judges, we look for pieces that simultaneously move us, challenge us, and inspire us as readers; pieces that stimulate us emotionally and intellectually; and the pieces that display true technical skill. When we vote, we consider all these things, and let only the pieces we deem up to snuff through to our gallery. This pushes our submitters to excel, challenge themselves, and improve their craft, and provides our readers with high quality literature to read. 

The Featured Deviant of the Month is a member whose submissions meet and surpass this criteria.   


winterkate is a new and highly promising young addition to our literature community. Her words are filled with passion and utilized meticulously, to create thought-provoking, highly satisfying poetry.

 winterkate has 15 pieces in our gallery to date! They are all wonderful and I encourage you to check them out.

MEi. I fell in love with a girl who catalogued darkness,
sat in her room with the blinds closed and wrote down
187 ways it felt
in all of the different times she couldn't see.
My name was one of them,
#143, ash velvet, and I didn't know what she meant at the time
but the only description she wrote beneath it
was good night for stuffed animals
bad night for worn pillows.
And I'm sorry I made you dream of the rivers.
ii. I fell in love with a girl who never looked in the mirror
but dressed to perfection, somehow
in her blue skirt and black socks
white tennis shoes
and a smile crooked as the bottom side of Indiana –
yeah, I fell in love with a girl
who could never quite get it straight – but hey,
that's alright,
I've never been 100% straight either,
and the one corkscrew curl you have
opens me up like fine wine
each time I see you smile in that cracked bathroom mirror.
Makes me half-drunk,
iii. I fell in love with a girl who was depressed by Paris,
but loved Italy beca

In the words of LadyofGaerdon:
A brilliant ode to self-acceptance
and loving everything you are,
winterkate's words are hopeful
and inspire us to do the same. 

to a womanYou see it coming from the men.
You see the ways their eyes linger on you
When they're looking around the room
The way their bodies brush yours when you're walking through the hallways to class
The way they stutter and look away when apologizing for the accidental contact of skin to skin
You see it coming from the men.
You never see it coming from me.
God, was the world not complicated enough already
Without causing me to notice the interplay of textures in her hands
The calluses like mahogany mountains carving ridges of stone
Into her palms softer than Impressionistic sunlight?
I'm not supposed to feel this way about another woman. I'm not supposed to sit here
With a star around my neck and daydream about the way her tongue could taste like cinnamon,
Like my grandmother's home, like gingerbread cookies and the dawn of Christmas morning
These words are blasphemy, so I call upon God to give me a reason for my emotions.
Wasn't the world fucked up enough already without this?
Cut the coff

In the words of SCFrankles:
A piece about unexpected and mostly-unrequited love.
This blew me away. The maturity of the
writing, the evocative imagery, the
contained emotion. Very, very moving.

Astronauti.238,900 miles away
the Earth gleams in the darkness.
A cat's eye, opalescent blue
flecked with terra verdant,
fifty-two cream colors
of cloud.
Under a heavy lid of night,
it glares. Angry.
As if to say to the Sun:
I was dreaming
of all the fish
in my seas.

As if to ask why
it had to be woken.
Thoughts are protozoan here;
with glass-thin skin
transparent as the first lie
he ever told as a child.
I didn't steal that candy bar.

He can see the mechanics,
the workings,
the insides.
They divide like dreams,
impossibly smoothly,
Whole and unbroken
as they tear apart. If
he could stretch far enough,
he could pop his home planet
like soap bubble.
Even now,
he's too small
to make much
of a difference.
238,900 miles away,
there is a small click.
A tiny latch
as his 14-year-old daughter
slides her seatbelt
into place.
She's learning how to drive,
and how to feel a new kind of terror.
Haunting thought
of collision. Of bone
or brick breaking,
of sound

In the words of LadyofGaerdon:
A stunning ode to Ray Bradbury.

Poem for the TransgenderedAnd I am not one of you, but
I know what it's like
to want to crawl out of your own skin.
I am not one of you, but
I want to shed this 173.2-pound body, I want
to hear the smack, the boom, the crash
as it hits the floor and moulds gray, I want to see
the bruise flowers write blue and purple obituaries across my white skin
before it dissolves into garden soil, I want
my body to, for once, create something beautiful.
And I am not one of you but
sometimes I have wanted to cut off all my hair.
To lop off this shit stream that's coursing down my back,
to bury it in the back and become some
I have never wanted this here.
And I am not one of you but
I hate looking in the mirror. I hate the eyes that could never decide
between blue and green, earth
and sky, the eyes that ended up in the middle
right where the stormclouds curl up to rest
and dream nightmares. I am not one of you but
I hate my eyes.
And I know what it's like not to want breasts.
To want to roll them

In the words of AzizrianDaoXrak:
This piece is about a topic that is very close to MY heart,
and though other members of the trans community may
find that it doesn't quite hit their experiences on the nose,
there are moments, to me, where she gets it exactly rights:
To keep scrubbing till you could pick locks with my tibias, till
my bones are small enough and sharp enough
to sew myself back together with

And above and beyond these moments of terrible, painful beauty,
she treats the topic with respect, compassion, and a
sense of being kindred spirits, and for all this I am grateful.

Artist Discretionbreak
I don't want to I can't let me go leave me alone Ican't Ican't Ican't not knowing
all of the things
He will do
to make me
a beauty
all of the things
He will do
to make me

In the words of LadyofGaerdon:
Poor splintered-up poem! A creative look at the
way a poem might feel about the rather brutal
treatment it often receives at the hands of its creator. 

Volpi.You will find that the story you tell
is very rarely your own. In Lucca,
even the smallest pebbles
breathe in the warm sunlight.
Knotted stones and cobbled roads
beat out a paper-dry heartbeat heat –
my city breathes in and out,
inhales sparrow air.
It's writing a story.
You are the pen.
You will find that in Lucca
the daisy chains forge fire
in side streets and back alleys.
Teenagers intertwine. Tell me,
odd flower, are you still closed?
Here we are colored wax;
the heat of the city melts us.
We run into each other, rhapsody
of pigments. Operas are our specialties.
Open up; feel the reds.
If not, try and see them. There is a place
of deep knife marks, a street
long as midnight –
you may learn something there.
Valentina's voice glimmers like red wine.
You may enjoy intoxications. Still,
know alcohol has no story
and will swallow your own.
Find the sign with the wolf on it.
You'll know the place. Epiphanies ring true as church-bells.
Lucca still guides the wanderers
to well sp

In the words of thetaoofchaos:
It is not a locale that has magic, danger, depth or purpose
as much as it is a catalyst to shake those things alive within us.
With this poem, the writer delivers such a place, both
outside and in, and with rare skill. 

what if this was the song of myself?1. god laced your eyes with opium
stitched them shut with cotton fog. wake, love – cough
like a gunshot, breathe
like the blood eagle
has been carved into you. time didn't mean
to blind the moon's great eye, to
collapse it into the static horizon.
my lips can no longer pronounce the word mercy. wake,
love. please.
just breathe.
2. the days crack like porcelain dolls
under my father's boots. there are skulls
hidden in the cabinets, & shadows too, hung in the closet
like thin-pressed coats.
like suicide.
3. razor, rohypnol, rope. bathroom,
basement. if i touch all three
before i leave
i won't pick one up when i
come back.
4. there is newsprint
moving underneath
my skin; the serif fonts
lock & jumble
like nephilim stretching
*-tipped wings
like barbed wire babies
crawling through my veins. this is
the same disease
you died of. without you here,
i understand.
5. razor, rohypnol, rope.
razor, rohypnol, rope.
your picture smiles,
showing skin. that summer
we were always young.

In the words of LadyofGaerdon:
This is horror in the best way -
the creeping, psychological skin-crawling way.

In the words of tonepainter:
This is raw, take no prisoners stuff.

In the words of LadyofGaerdon:
Wow. Just wow. Also damn. Damn.


THAT POEM (Writer's Block)I sat down at my computer last Thursday night
with the full intention of writing THAT POEM. Oh, don't
play dumb. You know what THAT POEM is. We all know
what THAT POEM is. You with the cigarette train-tracks
charting your eternal drift to nowhere
on the insides of your arms, you
with the sludge of alcohol dripping thick & brown through
veins swollen & slow & pussy as zombies, you
with the eight children whose faces you can't remember
& the husband in the Hamptons whose name you sometimes forget
& the lover who never seems to come around as much as you pay him to – you
all know what THAT POEM
is. It's the rhythm beating a dull staccato in your skull
when you've taken something to take the edge off, the weary shadows sinking senseless
into the black-slung cradles hiding underneath your
bloodshot eyes. It's the weight of the gun & the way its metal feels
when you push it against the squelching skin of your skull – not to kill yourself, just to feel it,
to know you could. This wa

In the words of Beccalicious:
Best read aloud.

CigarettesMy New Orleans muse smiles;
Bourbon Street quick-grin.
Mona Lisa Lolita; she splashes
through the stained-glass
of oil-slick puddles
wearing combat boots dark
as a Halloween new moon.
Her machine-gun lips are
half-drawn around dusk.
Cherry-red smile,
shimmering green jade eyes.
She can see through the clouds
if she casts them herself.
Dragon mouth against paper;
the serenade of the skeleton.
She burns stripped phalanges,
swears she's sucking down
Red wool, a bonfire;
she breathes all the warmth
she has never known.
Lungs of the phoenix,
blistering black;
breath full of gray ash.
One day she will wake hacking,
spitting poison spiders.
Tonight she inhales summer;
mouthful of fireflies.
She tilts her head back,
cat eyes triumphant.
She'll never be a constellation,
but she's stolen Orion's left foot.

In the words of allsparra:
Frightening imagery, vivid metaphors, powerful.

Stephanie - Collab(I wrote us in free verse over every inch
               of your tattered surface ).
you were the beatific grin
of a kindergartener high off oxygen,
mouth stretched wide as the entrance to hell,
black tongue bleeding virtuous sin like ichor.
(You taught me praying was for the weak
      as I fell for your gypsum nails,
               white teeth scrabbling over my chalkboard frame).
scribbled flesh tells no love story
but three layers of skin
worn thin along the length of our feverish bones.
(Garden flowers tucked away worms and dirt,
      my ribs hoarded misspellings of my mother's name).
dipping your origami limbs into my ink,
you lost yourself within the dark tangles
of my labyrinth roo

In the words of LadyofGaerdon:
A gorgeous example of a well-executed
collaboration, in which each artists' skills
and styles blend into and complement
each other in perfect synchronicity.

Please check out our Featured Gallery, which shall be hosting all of winterkate's submitted works. Please also peruse her gallery for yet more awesomeness and remind her of what an amazing writer she is. Oh yes, and please :+fav: this article to spread the word!

 Until next time...

The :icontalentedwritersguild: Team: :iconladyofgaerdon: :iconangeljunkie: :iconazizriandaoxrak: :iconnngross: :iconoritpetra: :iconladylincoln: :iconquiestinliteris: :iconvigilo: :iconemocinderella: :iconangelstained:

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Add a Comment:
CherokeeGal1975 Featured By Owner Oct 1, 2014  Hobbyist General Artist
Hello, I have a great link to a self published novel I would like to share with everyone in this group.
Please share it everywhere.…
myPCisonfire Featured By Owner Aug 16, 2014  New member Hobbyist Writer
Thanks for the add my friends. Need to get penning some work now. Perhaps I can find some inspiration in your halls of brilliance .:)
AzureNebulae Featured By Owner Aug 8, 2014  Hobbyist Writer
I feel honoured that you have accepted my poem to the group's gallery. It means a lot; thank you so much. :iconsweethugplz: <3
Riorlyne Featured By Owner Jul 26, 2014   Writer
Hi! I submitted a poem to the group (this one, around June 23, I think) and the correspondence message I kept for it tells me it's expired. Does that count as an automatic decline? :(
LadyLincoln Featured By Owner Jul 26, 2014  Hobbyist Writer
I do not believe so. Resend it to us and we will re-vote ASAP. :heart:
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