Grandpa Tom went jogging in the park. His feet were swift, his shoulders high, his eyes bright. He sped past fat young men who barely dragged their feet. When he noticed his shoelaces were undone, grandpa Tom stooped, and tied them. He could not straighten himself up. 'Help!' he cried.
When I write, I imagine I am God, the omniscient observer, rather than the characters in the scenes. I handwrite as well as type. I handwrite story world ideas, character sketches, scenes, first drafts. I type on a laptop everything else. I set a daily word quota and reach it. I can write on my … Continue reading How Do You Write? (Part Three)
The bear cub ventured alone into the forest. Not minding his step, he fell into a hole, from which he could not come out. He wept. The hole filled with his tears, and he swam out. He ran home to mother bear's cave. The tear-filled hole is today a lake. This week I'm republishing some … Continue reading A 50-Word Story a Day Keeps the Boredom Away #5
boy with a hat 