I don’t generally post links because I don’t want to be held responsible in case, say, the domain’s owner one day drops it, it’s snatched up by a porn site (as had happened to one very near and dear to this writer’s heart) and, God forbid, little Jimmy runs across it. But I’m going to take a chance in this instance and post one anyway. It isn’t some wildly new concept or even newly made; it’s been around for a while. But it does answer a lot of ‘new writer’ questions.
Stephen King: Everything You Need to Know About Writing Successfully: in Ten Minutes | Facebook
Once in a very long while the cosmos aligns and pleasant things happen. Perhaps someone somewhere didn’t do something, which didn’t cause something, which made someone else miss whatever it was. Maybe. Whatever.
It was about a year ago when I wandered into an antique shop and happened upon an Underwood typewriter. It was a cast-iron-frame beauty—classic design, nice pin striping, glass keys, sans rust, and in pretty decent shape. Unfortunately the price wasn’t so decent, so there it
Once upon a time, a gorgeous (this is my story, okay?) WF member named Hawke decided to do something completely selfish. Being a writer (again—this is my story) had everything to do with it. So did having two small unused rooms, both having gone from guest rooms to something akin to the TV show Hoarders, practically overnight.
Okay, so they weren't that bad. But I digress.
Hawke thought it would be fun to take one of the rooms and create a small library/sitting room/guest
While trolling the internet today, I was struck by the amount of ‘voices’ out there with so much to say, in many cases their words beautifully crafted, their thoughts just begging to be heard.
They—the author—are begging to be heard.
Everyone wants to be heard, to be listened to and, more importantly, to matter. Just look at the amount of Blogs and Facebooks and Virbs and Tweets and forums for everything and anything imaginable, all packed with countless individuals
Four-month-old Jed is learning the leash very well, sleeps through the night, is awesome in the house (super clean) and knows “sit” “wait” “down” “off” “touch” “drop it” and “no” among others. So we failed Puppy School. Well actually, I dropped Jed out myself because, quite frankly, I’m opposed to the way the woman who was running it (the lady who shall remain nameless… let’s call her Ms. D), ran it.
It started outside with Ms. D directing us to have our puppies relieve themselves
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