Hello, lovely stranger! My name is Veronika Sizova, and I am currently studying in Canada.
Since early childhood, I have been mesmerized by the literary art. The words – exquisite, intricately intertwined, sophisticated, magnificently powerful and fragile simultaneously, – remind me of the oceanic waves, and poetry hides in their unfathomable depths.
This place is meant to become a sanctuary for the tortured souls, aflame with a passion for literature.
1. Social Media encourages engagement between politicians and their supporters.
Even though it may not seem so at a glance, political campaigns and social media campaigns follow the same structure that allows a deeper engagement between the politician and their audience, “Social media really just makes it easier for politicians to find, listen to, and engage with their supporters during their election campaigns” (Jenn 2019).
Although traditional news organizations were successful for centuries, their time is almost gone, with new, inventive companies like BuzzFeed gradually taking their place and stealing their readership. “BuzzFeed’s journalists think they are more attentive to audiences and more willing to experiment than those working in traditional news organizations,” Tandoc and Foo argue (2018). However, their journalistic standards remain the same, and it is the approach itself (more interactive, user-experience-oriented content) that is different.
It is always great to have a clear plan in mind! Think about your brand in advance and sketch some of the goals that you would like to achieve. When I first thought about creating “The Waves of Poetry,” I wrote a brief introduction to the website’s goals, the edited version of which you can still find at the top of my homepage.
Then, list how you will measure whether your campaign has achieved its goals or not (Nimble 2012). This can be something quantitative and straightforward, such as like count, but it can also refer to qualitative data, such as user feedback and reviews.
Keep in mind all the promotional rules of the platform you are using and include them in your plan (for instance, come up with the list of keywords that would be popular in the search engine of a particular network) (Nimble 2012).
“These days I find that I’m getting paid more for a sponsored tweet or Instagram post that takes less than a minute, than I do for actual journalism,” repeat many digital media journalists each year as social media platforms take over the traditional news outlets, thus forcing many people to change the initial route of the careers in the journalistic field (Spike 2017). Freelance journalists often have to deal with a “slow response rate from the editors and delayed payments,” so they have to take up other writing projects for additional income (Spike 2017).
When it comes to online content creation, transparency is key. Developing a strong level of trust is an essential skill for any blogger, and it is especially relevant for writers because words can hide so much! Remember that “the Web is active 24/7 and has cameras on all angles,” so there is no benefit in hiding the facts or submerging the truth – one day, it will reach the surface, anyway, because the Internet sees everything (Brohgan and Smith, 2019). Therefore, the best tactic would be never to attempt hiding anything in the first place! Tell the audience your true intentions, and you will be paid back with more trust and support than you could imagine!
Are you interested in LGBTQIA+ literature? Do you want to learn more about the less-known sapphic authors from different eras and corners of the world? Then, this podcast is perfect for you! Hosted by Veronika Sizova, the first episode of “Sapphic Literature” covers the life and work of Marina Tsvetaeva, an early-twentieth-century Russian poet. This episode also presents the reading of the first poem from her cycle, “Girlfriend,” dedicated to Sophia Parnok, and elaborates on the historical context of this publication, as well as the lyrical imagery that Tsvetaeva used in the poem. The listeners are welcome to participate in the poll and choose the author for the next episode!
When I let go of your hand many moons ago, deep down, I knew I would never hold it again. I still see your ghost, now and then, hovering over the cliffs and mingling with the mist between the mountains… At sunset, your shadow haunts the valley where we used to dream. We made up stories; we gathered berries and laughed; we conjured up entire lives, intertwining our thoughts like grapevines and drinking their mellow nectar until we were intoxicated with passion.
Azure hills near Moscow linger,
Tar and dust — in the lukewarm air.
I sleep all day, all day I laugh — let's say
I am recovering from winter.
I am walking home in utter silence:
For unwritten poems — no remorse!
I prefer, to every single verse,
The rattling wheels, the smell of fried almonds.
When the mind is beautifully empty,
Always blame the heart — it is too full!
As though little waves, my days unfurl;
From the bridge, I watch them fall aplenty.
Someone's gazes are too soft and tender
In the tenderness of lightly heated air...
I am falling under summer's spell,
Barely recovered from winter.
(March 13, 1915)
Midnight—over the coffee grounds
She cries, looking toward the East.
Her mouth is innocent and unbound,
Half—a flower, and half—a beast.
Soon a crescent—young and slender—
Shall replace the scarlet dawn
All my combs I will surrender,
All my rings - to you alone!
Waxing moon between the branches
Did not shelter anyone.
I will give you all my bracelets,
All my chains - to you alone!
As though under a heavy mane
Your luminous pupils shine!
Are your comrades jealous in vain? -
The full-blooded horses stay light!
(December 6, 1914)
Her neck is lifted—young and free,
Like spring in reverie.
Who knows her name—who knows her age,
There is no light on these curved lips—
Capricious and gentle—
Yet I am blinded and eclipsed
By her Beethoven's temple.
It makes me tender—clear and lit,
Her face, a melted oval,
Her hand, in which a whip would fit,
And—in the silver—opal.
A violin bow could serve her hand,
But into silks it went,
How unrepeatable—this hand,
Unique, beloved hand.
(January 10, 1915)