In which dead beetles and viking funerals play a significant part.

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Time for a little game. What do the following three sentences have in common?

  1. “He had the look of one who had drunk the cup of life and found a dead beetle at the bottom.” P.J. Wodehouse
  2. “When I die, I want a viking funeral at a public pool.” Paul Grealish, Twitter
  3. “Peterborough porch-pirate caught on video.” The Peterborough Examiner

Give up yet?


This is who we are, this is what we do.

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The Blind Bards Literary Society began as a small collective of local Christians interested in writing, literature, and the arts. Though we aren’t exactly paragons of learning, we are united in our conviction that Jesus Christ is the cohering principal of the cosmos, and that true life — life as it was meant to be lived — goes beyond mere existence. Echoing the words of C. S. Lewis, we believe “more in how humanity lives than how long. Progress [for us] means increasing the goodness and happiness of individual lives.”


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Though the tenants undergirding this publication would be considered broadly evangelical, submissions will be considered based on their own merit and not simply because of a fluency in “Christianese.” Those familiar with the late apologist Francis Schaeffer will recall his abhorrence for the flotsam often approved as “art” simply because of its theological overtness. We wholeheartedly affirm his antipathy in this regard and hope you do too.


The secret of saying more with less

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The prudent writer will attempt to maintain his spending habits somewhere between Ebenezer Scrooge and Kim Kardashian. On the one hand, he rightly fears any method which — in language or form — might indicate a dearth of supply. And so he guiltlessly pursues good literature, employs his thesaurus with reckless abandon, and regularly pillages his literary storehouse for fitting allusions, analogies, and hyperbole.


The surprisingly simple path to personal emptiness.

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The problem with trying to monetize creativity is that, well, art isn’t always strictly marketable. I’m not saying that beautiful things aren’t valuable — only that certain ones defy quantifiablility more readily than others. I mean, how do you set a price on a paper-mache owl that took you three months to build? It would seem almost irreligious to try.


A Sober Reflection on Foodstuffs

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I stood and stared at one last bag,
the weight of which I feared;
would cause it’s membrane to unwind
should sturdy ground be cleared.


How to lead your readers from the known to the unknown.

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No one enjoys walking in on the middle of a conversation. Who knows what unspoken criteria have already been established? What inside jokes have already begun to form? What experiences have already been shared? In short, who knows what havoc your sudden intrusion will wreak on a conversation’s delicate ecosystem?


And avoid noun abuse in the process.

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Writers can sometimes bury their sentence’s main character and verb under a pile of sprawling, abstract nouns. These seemingly unmanned sentences mean that readers, with all the enthusiasm of a stuffed mongoose, will be forced to infer what’s happening.


You were born with a backbone. Now write like it.

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Anyone who managed to keep half-awake in biology class will recall that the creature kingdom can be divided into two main teams.


How Kate Turabian helped my tired paragraphs dance like trained monkeys.

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Though Lao Tzu may have been correct in observing that all streams eventually lead to the ocean, the same cannot always be said of all conversations. Indeed, too many of them seem to be in no hurry at all to arrive at the calm waters of resolution, leaving us to wonder whether such an ocean ever existed in the first place.

Ben Inglis

Book lover, copyeditor, sometime windbag. Peddling unconventional perspectives on writers and the writing life.

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