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The Writer Behind the Words
The Writer Behind the Words
Luck has little to do with link. A long lasting writing career doesn’t just happen. A writer can burst onto the scene and quickly disappear. Another can have a series of hits then write a bunch of flops and never be heard from again. The difference between a long lasting career and one that burns out is strategy. Here are seven rules to help you find the right strategy for you and get you started on your journey to long lasting success.

Learn the power of focus. For most of us, we have more than enough to do on a daily basis. And when it comes to any writing project the list can grow exponentially- you have a blog to write, a monthly newsletter to keep up with, two deadlines for upcoming books, a speaking engagement and more. A long “To Do List” can be overwhelming and for many of us can lead to procrastination, confusion or just plain paralysis! The solution? Do one thing at a time. Come up with a goal for the day. Writing or marketing? Then do the tasks that will accomplish that goal. If you have extra time you can focus on other less pressing tasks.

Keep moving. Humans are smart. Sometimes too smart. Many times obstacles come in our way like a tree in the middle of the road and instead of going around it, we try to chop it down or climb over it. Don’t focus on the obstacles. A rejection is an obstacle but instead of focusing on it move to the next submission or work on something else. So your first play wasn’t the greatest, start your next one; okay so your favorite editor left your magazine, try to woo the new one. Don’t focus on the roadblock. Go around it.

Don’t use a shovel to eat soup. Use the right tools that work for your project. Whether it is the tool of language (different language is used in romantic fiction versus fantasy or literary) or software. However, you don’t need all of the latest technology to be a prosperous writer. I still write all of my initial story ideas long hand before entering them on my computer. To help ‘speed’ the process, a year ago I bought a Neo AlphaSmart that has helped me capture ideas and bits and pieces of my manuscript and upload it directly to my computer, but my handwritten notes are still my old standby. There are a lot of reasons to spend money, new software, writing books, gadgets that promise to make your writing life easier, choose only the ones you really need.

Time stops for no man. How you spend your present time dictates your future. Daydream about writing and months later you’ll have a lovely daydream and nothing to show for it. If you envision a book write it every day, if not every day at least every week. With our busy lifestyle many of us--beginner and professional writer – let time get away from us. For some of us, we are always trying to ‘find’ time to complete or start our next manuscript. Time never stands still so it’s up to you to grab a hold of it rather than waiting for it to be ‘enough’. I know a dear friend of mine who when she was working full-time always dreamed of being able to stay home and paint. She now works from home, but still doesn’t find enough time. Why? Because she hasn’t learned the importance of time management. She fills her time with activities that don’t get her close to her dream of painting. So now every day she puts in a half hour when she must paint and is working towards her dream of being a full-time artist. Time is not the enemy, how you use it is. So be conscious of what you do with it. You’ll be surprised how far you’ll go.

Be your own cheerleader not your opponent. We all suffer from doubts, but don’t let your inner critic stop you. When a baby is learning to walk she’ll fall down a lot. She’ll get bruised and cry, but in order to master the skill she’ll need to keep on getting up and trying again and again. We understand that falling is part of the process, but for some reason as adults we’ve become averse to falling. We’ve interpreted it as ‘failing’ and it is. But one must fail his way to success. When you fail at something, instead of letting the critic have the final say, replace it with your inner cheerleader. The one that says, “That’s okay, keep going.” or “I know it didn’t work this time, but next time will be better.” Like the baby learning to walk we have to keep getting up. One rejection letter or two hundred should not stop you from building your writing career. So an editor didn’t like your latest story, come up with something else or submit to a different editor. Every career will have its ups and downs. The ones that burn out are the ones that hit the floor and stay there.

Claim your status. Whether you’re published or unpublished claim the fact that you’re a writer. Don’t wait for someone else to give you that validation. Once again your inner critic may be saying, “I’m not a real writer because I haven’t published anything.” or “I’m not a real writer because I’m not published in hardback.” “I’m only a genre writer; I’ll be a real writer when I’m in mainstream.” or “I’ve only been published in the community newsletter I’m not a real writer like a journalist.” If you write, you’re a writer. You don’t need anyone’s permission. However, I will caution you, if you make this claim, take the necessary steps you need to grow your skills as a writer. On the flip side there are a number of people who proudly call themselves writers, but never grow in their craft and their careers shows this lack. So constantly strive to be a better writer. This can be accomplished in many ways, online workshops, attending a conference, taking college courses, self-development by reading, etc. Don’t ever stand still.

Be flexible. Successful writing careers are rarely linear. Writers have to take detours when a magazine closes or a new editor hates the writer’s work. A successful mystery series suddenly becomes stale or market trends change the type of work that is accepted. Stretch your writing muscles so that your career can always take a new and exciting journey. Do you write poems? Try writing an article on poetry. Perhaps that could lead to a book. If your novel isn’t selling, perhaps serialize it online or take the theme and write a short story. Fiction authors try non-fiction. Don’t let yourself be victim to the whims of the industry.

Success is mainly strategy. Writers whose careers have lasted haven’t been without failure, disappointment and setbacks, but these individuals have learned how to move forward on the goals they’ve set for themselves. Hopefully with these seven rules you can linkfor success.
posted by r260897
Zean sat on his bed with his Zeal. He looked at “her” with love but pain in his eyes. He was about to play something but stopped when his door was knocked. It was Ben. “ Ben, what are you doing here? Its mid…” he wasn’t completed when Ben said “its just 4:45 p.m. it isn’t midnight. Zean, I don’t know about you. But I know our Zean. Please don’t try to bury your past in your heart coz it will occupy the room, which happiness and joy should own. It isn’t midnight and neither your life…. Don’t make it midnight. Well gotta go. I promised Ilm to teach him to play drums,...
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posted by para-scence
Inspired by the song, "Looking Glass" by The Birthday Massacre.

"Waiting as I'm wanting to. Speaking as I'm spoken to. Changing to your point of view. I fade as I follow you. A boyish notion of false emotion. These words are spoken despite my love. A fool's devotion was set in motion. My eyes are open now."




I'd thought there was nothing wrong.

"He's really sweet, I promise," I'd said. They just didn't know him like I did. It made me angry. He really wasn't bad; just some anger management problems. That was no reason to be afraid.

Now I wasn't so sure.

"Look at me when I talk to you," he snapped....
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posted by DxCFan123
I wanted until morning. I was actually able to still live in my room. It wasn't an aparition or anything weird. Like I never got bitten. Like I ran from him and was safe with my family. When morning came, I grabbed all my dresses and ran to the nearest mall and looked at the directory. Upstairs. I went up the escalator. I slowly walked inside the shop. It felt eerie and dark. That frightful night played back in my head.

"Help! Someone!" "Mamma! Mamma! Mam-"

"M'aam? How may I help you?" I snapped back to reality. "Oh, I have these old dresses and I thought a thrift store could take them." I set...
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posted by DxCFan123
It was the next day. I got dressed nervously, had Bruno thought I was a helper? I put on a blue shirt that said "Do I Look Like I Care?" and skinny jeans. I ran outside to look for the bus, it wasn't there. I waited and waited, but it never came! I ran to school. I finally got to school no one was in the halls. I realized everyone was in class. I wrote a fake note in cursive the best I could. When I walked into class I gave the teacher the note. She read happily. Not looking angry at all, she said "Oh! I didn't give you a note. It was saying the bus driver was sick and there were no subs availble. Sorry!" I replied with " It's fine"
posted by para-scence
"Honey, do you feel guilty for what your parents did?" Dr. Bellamont asked. We were in the middle of a session that I was being forced to participate in. I shrugged. "I think you do," she said quietly. I clenched my hands into fists. It made me mad that she assumed that. It also made me mad that she was also kind of right.

Dr. Bellamont went on for a while, saying about how it wasn't my fault for what my parents did. After a couple minutes I got sick of listening to her and blocked everything out. She sighed.

"Hecate? Are you even listening?" she asked. I nodded, and she raised an eyebrow. I...
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posted by Insight357
“Yes, that’s right,” I nodded my head. Trying to convince myself I was strong enough to do this. “I’m leaving you! You’re hateful and abuse me! I deserve better than you!” Kind of…
    “You’re really going to leave me, Erik? But what about all the fun we had together?” He took another step toward me. I cringed, stop being so afraid, I sternly told myself.
    “Fun for you maybe. All I’ve gained from this relationship was these,” I stuck out my arm and pointed to my face. He only looked at me and shook his head.
    “I...
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posted by para-scence
**4 years later...**

"Are we there yet?" Hollis asked.

"Almost," Blake said.

"You're excited to see Aunt Dezzie, aren't you?" I asked, turning around in the passenger seat of our car. Hollis grinned eagerly from the backseat. Even though Desiree is six years older than her, they still get along well. Desiree enjoys watching over Hollis, and playing with her niece.

We were driving out to Dad's house for Christmas. The whole town was covered in a thick blanket of snow, and it was still falling. We soon came up to the driveway. Blake got Hollis out of her car seat, and she ran up the sidewalk to Grandma...
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posted by para-scence
Hollis was definitely a handful. But I loved her anyways. I never thought I'd have kids. At all. When I was younger, I'd always thought kids were annoying, gross, whiny, and a bunch of other non-enjoyable things. Sure, it was kind of annoying that I could barely get any sleep, but it wasn't Hollis' fault. She was just a baby. Even when I was sixteen and Desiree had been born, sure I thought she was cute. But I could've never seen myself having kids of my own.

Things have changed.

Hollis is now my whole world, along with Blake. Blake is everything and anything I could ask for in a husband. Hollis...
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posted by Skitty_Love
Celeste's POV

Huff... Huff... I think... I lost her for good.. I sat exhausted on the fuchsia colored love seat in the living room. Thoughts raced through my mind that seemed like 800-mph! "Celeste? Honey, why do you look so pooped out?" I looked up, it was Aunt Natalie, with her mellow look. "Ah, yeah I.. Never-mind, i-its nothing!" She tilted her head, I guess I just made it more suspicious.. She came and sat down next to me. "C'mon sweetie, you can tell auntie anything!" She petted my head gently. Aunt Natalie was always a lot nicer than my mother, shes never too hard on me, and she really...
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posted by StarWarsFan7
Angel's POV

BAM!! I quickly shut the enchanted door to the wizard lair. My breath is running away from me as I did before. "Woah! Whas'up with you?" Not now Tyler!!! "Nothing! Absolutamente nada!" Did I just speak Spanish those two last words? "It seems like something is up. C'mon. Tell Tyler everything you know." Why is he trying to comfort me? I hug onto my month-older brother. "Well, I ran into a Witch in the for-" Tyler quickly pushes me very hard away from him. "YOU WHAT?!?" Do I have to repeat it? "I. Met. A. Witch. In. The. Woods." I think I clarified that enough! "I can't believe this!!...
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posted by StarWarsFan7
Angel's POV

All of my life, it's been pretty much very normal. With school, home, and learning some new spells. As a wizard myself, we have to keep our gift, a secret. There's nothing worse than confronting a witch. Ohh...! Just thinking about those ogres gives me the chills! The magical setting in our family wizard lair is deep in a closet. To tell you the truth, it's rather large! If you open my closet door (which is the entrance to the wizard lair) it will just be a normal clothing closet. But if you cast a certain spell on it, the closet is now the wizard lair. My dad, Miguel is the full...
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posted by para-scence
I brought Hera and Desiree home the next morning. Hera begged me not to tell Dad and Kara what really happened last night. For a moment, I considered just telling them the truth. At least they'd make sure it never happened again. But then I stopped. It was just one time, right?

"Only if you promise to never do it again," I warned. She nodded quickly.

"I won't. I promise."

"Fine," I sighed. "Besides, I'm not the one you'll need to convince to keep her mouth shut." Both of us turned to Desiree. She smiled evilly.

"Please, Dezzie. Don't say anything. I'll get you a My Little Pony if you do, ok?"...
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**scroll down for translation**

Regen wusch die Gräue von den Fenstern und ließ sie über den Asphalt ergießen.
Klamm schien die Luft, die unter der Last des Nebels unangenehm warm war, einem Nebel, der die Stadt in ein Gewirr von Spinnweben und Unkenntlichkeit hüllte.
All das, und ein fortwährendes leises Gemurmel füllten den Hintergrund des Geschehens.
Im Mittelpunkt saß ein Mann, gebeugt, mit dem Rücken zur Fensterseite gedreht, auf einem feuchten Holzstuhl und ergab sich seiner introspektiven Wahrnehmung.
Obwohl er seinen Blick nicht hob, schien es ihm, als beobachte er die Menschenmassen,...
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posted by para-scence
I ran down the pathway, my long blond ponytail whipping me in the face each time I checked to see how far I was ahead of Brandon. He was still far away, and Mommy and Daddy were even farther behind.

"Irina! Mommy and Daddy said not to go too far!" Brandon complained. I stopped in my tracks, and groaned.

"We're not too far! I can still see 'em," I said. Brandon pouted, not satisfied. I sighed. "Fine. We'll wait for them." Finally, after waiting forever, Daddy and Mommy finally caught up to us. I ran up to them, and Dad put his arm on my shoulder. Brandon held Mommy's hand. Mommy smiled at the...
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posted by alexmswann
It was three o’clock on a Friday and the bell had finally rung for school to be out for the weekend. I hurriedly shoved my books in my book bag and headed for the door ready to be out of school.
“Oh wait, Alisa could you come here for a quick second,” my English teacher, Mrs. Thompson asked. I turned around wishing I could be out this school. She was a very tall and light skinned lady, in her mid-thirties. She had long stringy black hair and big brown eyes. You would probably think she was a retired model. I quickly went to her desk trying not to seem I was rushing her.
“Um I just wanted...
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posted by para-scence
The next morning, despite being deprived of sleep, I was wide awake. Carmine was in the kitchen, Nikolai getting ready for work in his room. I frowned when I saw Carmine in his work uniform.

"I thought..." I began. He shook his head, his mouth full of cereal.

"I gotta work today. We'll go another day though, ok?" he said.

"When are you off...?" I asked.

"Next weekend," he answered. I groaned.

"Seriously?!"

"Sorry! You know, you could get a job too, y'know!" he shouted. I clamped my mouth shut. Carmine never yells at me. Ever. "Y'know, you complain about Nikolai all the time! You're just as bad!"...
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posted by para-scence
The next week was spent somewhat like that first day. We went to the park almost everyday. It wasn't that bad actually. It was kind of funny to see Jezebel and and Aspen run around like psychos. I was actually starting to warm up to Scout as well. It was cool to just talk to someone my age that was a girl too. I never had the chance to do that at school or home. I really like Aspen too. She's very mature for her age, when she wants to be. She has no problem goofing around like a little kid. She likes to talk about a bunch of things. I've become very close with her too.

Then soon came the Sunday...
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posted by Insight357
We went back to Alexander’s apartment after getting Lucy. Xander and Lucy had been sitting on the couch. He was fussing at her for running off.
    “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me where you were going,” Xander’s lip curled up.
    “I didn’t think you cared! You aren’t my damned guardian!” Lucy spat back defensively.
    “Maybe not, but I care about you Lucy. I love you,” Xander looked down. My eyes were open wide, but I pretended like I wasn’t there.
    “I-I love you, too,” Xander...
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posted by para-scence
A faint beeping noise entered my room of darkness. I squeezed my eyes shut even more, afraid to open my eyes again and see nothing. There was the noise again. And again. It sounded in a steady pattern. The more I comfheard it, the more it reminded me of where I was. Before, when it was complete silence, it felt surreal, like it was all a bad dream. Now it was a constant reminder that there was nothing left for me. I cried, and a wet tear rolled down my cheek. A tear? But when I died, I'd felt nothing. I couldn't feel or taste the blood that had been running down my lips. I couldn't feel the...
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posted by itchygum
I sat in my bed, watching the minutes tick by on my clock. 10:51 . . . 10:52. I rolled on my side, thinking about the next day, the first day of school. I was a strait A student and also a bit of a badass. Where did I fit in? My eyelids became heavy, harder to open every time I blinked, until they didn't open.
I felt a nudge, my mom waking me up. "Get dressed," she whispered in my ear. I dragged to my dresser, pulling out my pink Aeropostale shirt and a pair of skinny jeans.
My mom dropped me off and kissed my forehead, so embarrassing, but typical mom. "Hey Ana-rebel!" Called Brooke, pretty...
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