Feeds:
Posts
Comments

Posts Tagged ‘authors’

Writing should be like your best friend. It should be easy and comfortable with a strong connection that pulls you together.

Your friend should allow you to be your authentic self, allowing you to be free to express your views and ideas in every way without judgement, completely accepting you as you are. If there are times when you are apart, your friend should welcome you back so you pick up exactly where you left off last time. Your friend will forgive your imperfections and challenge your opinions and hold you accountable for the things you say. Your friend will help you be a better person, strengthen your values and solidify who you are, and your bond will be unbreakable. Your friend will only ever support your dreams and help you achieve your goals so that you find happiness.

So give writing time. Develop, nurture and care for it. Express your love for it and never give up on it. Through the good or the bad, it’s there for you always. You’ve got a friend!

Read Full Post »

The hardest thing about writing is … writing!

Surprised?

Well don’t be. It is such a common problem. Seriously, I hear it all the time, ‘I want to be a writer. I’m going to write. I will write.’ And each time the excuses become more and more elaborate and more and more creative and in some ways like a story in itself, with plot twists, dramatic scenes, interesting dialogue and a main character with huge obstacles to overcome. But you’re not like that are you?

People like the idea of writing and being published but very few are willing to work at it. Writing is a lonely toil and can be very frustrating. However, it can be therapeutic and fulfilling and an escape into a world that is only yours. Writing is a craft and the only way to learn the craft is to practice it. The answer is to find the time and to find the space and to write every day. There are no short cuts to success.

So, do it. Write for yourself, write because you need to, write because your idea is calling you, and write for your dream.

Remember that writers write and dreamers dream.

Read Full Post »

Roald Dahl

Read Full Post »

Whose book The Minpins was published in 1991, a few months after the author’s death in 1990?

Read Full Post »

George Orwell

Read Full Post »

Which author’s books include Coming Up for Air, and Homage to Catalonia?

Read Full Post »

The boy entered his room and smelled the pot-pouri his mum had left in a bowl on his chest of drawers, an attempt to rid the dank odour of sweat-filled socks and shoes that permeated his room. He felt cold air prick and touch his skin, coming in from the window his mother had also left open, and yet there was still a welcoming warmth and comfort that greeted him from being in his space. This was his room, his sanctuary. He looked at the poster-filled walls of sporting heroes and pop stars and wondered fleetingly if it was time to remove them. Wasn’t he too old for such things now? Then his eyes moved to his Avengers action figure set, where they stood poised and ready to protect him at any moment of peril, and decided that no, he wasn’t too old yet.

He moved to the window to look out into the green backyard with rising blades of grass stretching to the fading pink of sunset and took a deep breath. Another gift to be savoured, he thought. He stood at the window for a long time admiring the sky as the pink turned to purple and then to grey and then to dark-blue. He inhaled another deep breath of fresh air, feeling the coolness enter his body, and exhaled a thank you out to the universe. He could do this. He could reunite his family. He could do what so desperately needed to be done. He closed the window, dropped his bag at his feet and flung himself backwards onto his bed.

Excerpt (novel) – The Wish List – Grant Ackermann

Read Full Post »

Don Quixote

Read Full Post »

I resent my dad. Well, there’s not much to tell except that I vowed never to be like him. Any decent man steps up and takes responsibility, right, Doc? Not my father. He walked out on us, the coward. Didn’t even try to reconcile with Mum. I wonder if Mum tried? She never did say, so I guess not.

I remember the rain bucketing down that night he left. My father’s tall, dark frame cutting through the torrent, deflecting the heavy rain drops that bounced off him like bullets against Superman’s body, disappearing from the view of my bedroom window, vanishing into the darkness.

He didn’t even look back. If he had, he would’ve seen my face, wide-eyed and curious, pressed up against the glass, bewildered. At the time I thought he was coming back, probably just gone to the shops, or gone to see a man about something or other, as he would always tell Mum. Little did I know it would be the last time I would ever see him, and not even a goodbye. I mean, what am I supposed to think? The man I loved and adored couldn’t give a damn about his own flesh and blood. What kind of a man is that? Certainly not the man I want to be.

Excerpt (novel) – Insane Truth – Grant Ackermann

Read Full Post »

“Always forgive your enemies. Nothing annoys them more.”

Oscar Wilde

Read Full Post »

Older Posts »