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Joining and Rules

Can you read or write? Well then, that means that this group is perfect for you! Writing-Rampage is here for writers and non-writers alike. You can submit your work and browse other writer's work. This group is here to offer support for unseen writers, and for non-writers who just want to find good DA literature.

:bulletred: There are no limitations on joining. Anybody is allowed to join. :)

:bulletorange: We offer prompt challenges, featuring articles and contests periodically!

:bulletblue: We do not accept poetry in digital art format.

:bulletpurple: If you have a mature tag, it goes into the “Mature-ONLY" folder.

:bulletblack: Chapter works go into “chapter prose.” Singles go into “prose.”

:bulletgreen: If your work is denied, it's probably because it was submitted to the wrong folder.

:bulletpink: There is to be NO flaming of the art that is submitted to our galleries. Please be a nice person, it's the best thing to be. :heart:

:bulletpurple: Feel free to advertise your writing, contests and friends in comments down below! Just remember to keep it spam free. :heart:

Thank you for following the rules!

Group Info

Writing-Rampage is a group that allows you to participate in contests, discover unseen lit-artists, participate in prompts, features and a whole bundle of fun!
Founded 5 Years ago
Feb 14, 2010


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Journal Entry: Fri Mar 13, 2015, 3:55 PM

    Welcome to The Grooviest Lit in Town, where some of deviantART's very own writers are featured for their all radical, all gas, and all hangin' works and projects. From prose and poetry, to the depths of novels, soliloquies and articles, it's all here! So hang loose, get jazzed and keep on being right outta sight. :love:
    Some quick news: I will no longer be a critic for GrammarNaziCritiques. Also, this month marks a year since I've started to write articles with a little poke, prod, and nod from loving IrrevocableFate. Her weekly updates/events/existence in general introduced me to you crazy guys in the community. You're cool; I like your face Stephany.  It makes me feel good when you use to to say nice things to people. Touch It 

'Fairy Tale' ContestFairy Tale
BestestFriendContest Group ENTRIES
Bestest Friend (DreamingAutumn) and I are back with another contest! :eager:
:bulletred: This contest's theme is 'Fairy Tale'! What does that mean? Well,  why don't you just ruminate, whilst I illuminate the possibilities...
:bulletyellow: Simply put, you write something related to "fairy tale", that could be ANYTHING. Want to write your own fairy tale? Go for it! Want to modernize or rewrite the ending for an existing tale, do it! You can even incorporate another element into it. Maybe it's a cross between Sci-Fi and Fantasy or a Mystery and Fantasy tale! Or do some combination, how about a Snow White Sci-Fi where she is the one kissing the prince awake? ;P The possibilities are endle
Adjusting The Antennae (Ep. 19)Hello everyone and welcome to the 19th installment of Adjusting the Antennae! I'm so happy you guys could just us today and I hope your year has been kind to you so far and that studies are going well and that you're just overall kicking butt! I'm especially happy to have you all join me and my terrific guest for the show. But before I introduce her to you guys, I am your host chromeantennae and it is a real treat to be a part of your day here on deviantART.
And onto my guest today is the wonderful and ever-so-charming FuzzyHoser! Rachel here is really one of the coolest, most down-to-earth people you'll meet here on the site, hands down. From her passionate works, to her more technical works, she always brings superb quality to her writing to boot with her already infectious attitude. She really is a lovely, one-of-a-kind deviant, and I'm so glad to be able to call her a good friend of mine!
And I thank you, FuzzyHoser for taking tim
The Know Database Round-Up 23Our original journal can be found here. It states the aims of TheKnow more fully.
Database Round-Ups:
One | Two | Three | Four | Five | Six | Seven | Eight | Nine | Ten | Eleven | Twelve | Thirteen | Fourteen | Fifteen | Sixteen | Seventeen | Eighteen | Nineteen |


who i'll watch forever (or, maybe forever)also known as a poem
where i'll name-drop
every poet i've ever fallen for
and then make clever
references and play with usernames
and ultimately end
on some sort of joke
because that's all my poetry is,
wordplay wrapped in sarcasm.
and obtuse
obscure scientific language
until my shit is shipwrecked
and i'll need a captain
to get me back on track,
so i'll choose ian
and say AyeAye12.
or aye aye captain
and ay ay, let's see
if i can do this
in alphabetical order
and i'm starting off well
'cause i would've started
AlphaManifest had
she not have deactivated
her account.
and that's why
i don't believe in forever
'cause as soon as you
fall in love
they can disappear
outta thin air--
oh shit, wait.
i'm freaking out right now
'cause i realized that
probably should've gone
before Ian but don't think
about that little slip-up
'cause i'm really trying not to
right now and i'm nervous
but that's okay
because it's all a part of my charm?
maybe, maybe not. but
this nervousn
A Prickly SituationSweat dripped down Rose's back, making her uniform stick to her skin underneath the heat of three suns. She pushed aside a large branch, ducking under the long leaves. Looking over her shoulder, Rose did a quick count to make sure the group she chose to come were still following. This jungle was unfamiliar, easy to get lost in.
"Keep up, guys," she called, stepping over a large root system. "We'll stop and take a break in a few minutes, alright?"
A chorus of grunts and half-hearted affirmatives met her ears, and a small smile came to her lips. It disappeared, though, as she pushed another branch aside. A canyon filled her view, deep enough so she almost couldn't see the river at the bottom. Rose stopped abruptly. Holding up her hand to signal 'stop,' she continued to study the ravine, searching for a way down or across.
Her second in command came to stand beside her. "Commander?" she queried.
"Yes, lieutenant?"
"Some of the group were wondering when we'd get back to the ship; they're t
Either/Or/Neither/BothThe place I live in is an either/or world,
But sometimes I feel like an in-between.
People say I'm either a Taiwanese or a Canadian,
But sometimes they make me feel like I'm neither. 
"You speak English,
Your read English novels, 
And you hang out with Canadians.
You are not the Chinese top student anymore,
And you have those 'fun' classes like
Business, art and foods.
You're a Canadian,"
My Taiwanese friends say. 
But I was born and raised in Taiwan,
I look like an Asian,
And I still speak Mandarin and eat Taiwanese foods.
I have to be a Taiwanese.
But I don't have the same hairstyle the Taiwanese girls have.
I don't watch those Taiwanese dramas.
The Mandarin songs I listen to came out in 2007,
And I don't know those famous new bands.
"You're too westernized," they say,
"You can't be a Taiwanese."
Then am I really a "Canadian"?
I have an accent,
Sometimes I don't get jokes the Canadians do.
"You're too conservative and naive," Taiwanese say,
"Canada seems like a world t
On the Sweet and Down (Low)And again
I would swallow
said bitter pill
if only for a moment
to feel those saccharine lips
drive the flavor
of death
from my palate
- mortal -
truly is only ever found
lost in certain kisses
... to drink so deeply
    from such luxurious iniquities ...
a lone eternity found
between closed eyes
and thudding heart.
- immortal -
delicious repentance
discovered supine
in the night's blind eye
... long stretches
   adoring silken flesh
   perfumed with lust ...
the bitter pill
leaks in cracked blinds
slender fingers parting bruused lips
another good-bye creeping
into raw throats
meaaured by inches
of sun peaking over the horizon
- mortal -
Cherry-Eucalyptus MiseryI make cheap tea
in a cheap plastic cup,
boil it down into ashes.
Tastes like ashes, tastes like destiny.
I didn't ask for this.
Knees bent into chest
wounded and scream-gasping
because I didn't ask for this.
I lie in bed at night
and play with the edges of the blankets.
I listen for breathing. I hear my own.
I am ashamed.
There's nothing on the floor but dirt,
tracked in on my shoes
but I'm barefoot now
and what are we going to do about that.
There's mud on my feet
and the grass is green-tea sunshine
but I lost my tongue.
Sewed sewage under my skin
and drank poison to wash away the taste
of my tears.
They gave me cough drops for my bronchitis,
and all that's left in me
is cherry-eucalyptus misery.
There's nothing on the floor but me,
cherry-eucalyptus and bent knees,
elbows dug into sewage-sewn ribs.
The kettle clicks off,
and my destiny pools in a two-dollar cup
and I cry ashes instead of tears.
A Hundred Times: A Domestic Violence PoemA Hundred Times: A Domestic Violence Poem
A hundred times I screamed
tortured, begging cries —
“No, please. Stop, stop. . . Don’t.”
that tore from my aching throat;
clawed at your arms, pushed at your chest
until my body went limp from exhaustion.
And all you did was smirk as
Your knuckles hit my ribs with a crack!
Sending me reeling backward into the wall — again.
Body vibrating with pain and eyes closed
While hope finally died with my last
Gasping sob. . .
Here, a Diamond I Give to YouHere, a diamond I give to you
and hope you’ll hold dear
and your care for it true.
For that diamond I’ve kept
for years and years on end
always feeling it was trapped.
But when I saw one
who seemed to glow like God
under the yellow sun.
You. I knew this jewel,
a fragile and cold thing
would no longer be cool.
Yes, for you it warmed.
And for you the diamond
melted and formed.
I hope that in return
for my most treasured thing,
the reason, you learn,
Is to give yours to me,
that precious stone
in your hand, I see.
“Here, a diamond I give to you,”
you say with bright joy.
And our loving trade goes through.
Internet FriendsInternet friends are fake, unreal, untrustworthy.
Parents say , “Don't give your information
to someone who may do something dirty!
They're liars, evil and rapist in waiting.
Their compliments and gifts
are just another form of baiting.”
I'd like to think that we judge without
getting to know,
what happens on the other side of the mouse.
Internet friends are there when we're alone,
till 2 a.m on weeknights,
chatting with us until the pain is gone.
They're always there to confide,
when we're sometimes
on the verge of suicide.
Pulling us through our depression,
begging us not to relapse,
not to succumb to our regressions.
“Get help, not attention,” they'll tap in chat,
as a response of a picture,
that'll show our wrists all hatched.
Sometimes it's the little things they do for us,
like sending “You're amazing” “You're beautiful”,
“You're so full of love.”
They encourage us at times when our “friends” don't,
when our
dreams from the strawberry cityi woke up with the word prozac on my lips.
aaaand i dreamt of london
                              again and the
city was swollen and the lights were red, traffic
clutter and cinnabar bus shelter red
         thought i heard a train
                                     smashing but it was only
                                                 newspapers soaking up
the nocturnal tempo of some underground night club
some state of the art sound system, oh so modern oh so
                                let's pretend
to be an orchestra, hang cables from plastic pronounces,


I really dig the scene that's happening now, I really do, because there might be a lot of bad things going on, but if out of all of those bad things ten per cent of the groovy part of it stays, wow... you can't beat that. - Bruce Johnston


I'm a prose admin for LitRecognition, so be sure to check out the rules of submission here if you know a piece of prose that needs some exposure!

Happy writing,


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Social-Toast Featured By Owner Mar 2, 2015  Hobbyist Digital Artist

Bullet; Purple If you have a mature tag, it goes into the “Mature-ONLY" folder.

Bullet; Black Chapter works go into “chapter prose.” Singles go into “prose.”

My first submission falls under both of these categories. It has a mature tag (moderate) for violence/gore and is only a single chapter out of many more chapters to come (they won't all need mature tags though). So does this singular chapter go into the "Mature-ONLY" folder, while the others go into the "Chapter Prose" folder, and any other future chapters with a mature tag go into the "Mature-Only" folder; or is there something I'm missing, and need to be told?
Naktarra Featured By Owner Mar 2, 2015   Writer
If it is a story, poem or whatever it is, as long as it has a mature filter it goes into the mature folder. Yeah, it's a weird way of organising the pieces, but for now I think it's best to stick it into the mature folder. There may be changes this year, but well see. :shrug:

:heart: :heart:
hockeymask Featured By Owner Jan 8, 2015
Thanks for letting me join!
Exiolirion Featured By Owner Jan 4, 2015  Student Digital Artist
I just opened my commissions, if anyone is interested there's a bunch of info in my journal!
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