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Tribe Writers 2.0 Closed › Forums › Search › Search Results for 'fiction'

Viewing 7 results - 1 through 7 (of 7 total)
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  • May 12, 2024 at 6:54 PM #13967

    In reply to: Live Q&A Video- May 12th Noon to One


    CJ Reader
    Participant

    Hi Jeff! I just have a couple questions about the things that are like quicksand to my progress!

    I’m a fiction writer and I want to combine that experience with my marketing background for a blog. I have a site where I’d been posting flash fiction and excerpts from what I am working on. Could I add a more business-focused blog and area to that? or do you think it’s best to keep my personal writing separate? (I’m not yet published, and am at the start of my crossover idea, so I feel like an imposter as a writer and compared to experts in my business niche!)

    I also wondered what systems you use to keep you focused and in the zone when it comes to writing, and if you have any suggestions for re-energizing and getting back into the creative headspace after all the effort that it takes to finish a book/story?

    Thanks! ^_^ CJ

    May 12, 2024 at 6:40 PM #13960

    In reply to: Live Q&A Video- May 12th Noon to One


    Claes Jonasson
    Participant

    Jeff,

    I have a business focused on web design where I help small businesses and non-profits effectively tell their story online. I want to add online courses to that mix and a book or two as well.

    I also want to move my long-time idea for a fiction book (or series) into reality.

    So 2 different audiences really, though I’m not trying to hide the one effort from the other.

    When it comes to blogging, would you suggest one blog for the web design and business writing focus and one separate blog for the fiction writing effort, or would it be possible to cover the entire range in one blog?

    Claes

    May 12, 2024 at 6:25 PM #13950

    In reply to: Live Q&A Video- May 12th Noon to One


    Joe Cesarano
    Participant

    Hi Jeff! I’m a fiction writer/screenwriter who would like to assist fellow creatives transform their personal pain and setbacks into beautiful, transcendent works of art.

    How can I use my blog to promote my own work and stay true to this mission without coming across as overly self-serving, or self-promotional? My instinct is to use my own journey and creative work as an example of how to accomplish this alchemy of sorts, but I want to strike the right balance and stay true to my mission of helping people first. Am I overthinking this?

    Joe

    December 9, 2024 at 2:04 AM #10329

    Topic: Need a critique. Applying lessons from module 1.6 amd 1.7

    in forum Writing Critiques

    Cheryl McKinney
    Participant

    Hello, if anyone has time to give me some feedback I would appreciate it. I’m trying to cut the fluff and be personal and powerful. Basically, I’m applying what we learned in module 1.6 and 1.7. But I don’t want it to sound overbearing or choppy. Let me know what you think. Thanks.

    (This is for a blog post)
    Look Back To Learn

    Don’t look back to long for things that cannot change from this point on. Look back to learn from the good and the bad. Look back to create a better day today and tomorrow.

    Take what you have right now and shape it into something beautiful. You will thrive. You are not stuck. Live in the present, plan for tomorrow and be thankful about something.

    I owned a blog for a long time, but I never stuck with it. I feared many things. Now I try to be brave and hope my writing resonates with someone. I am the survivor of an abusive marriage. I suffered from psychological, sexual and spiritual abuse. I hid for many years because I was embarrassed about it. I thought I could fix it. I longed for a wonderful marriage and family life. I was smiling on the outside while dying on the inside. Far down the road of abuse, I no longer realized what was and wasn’t a normal and healthy way to live. I lost my way and I lost myself. Somehow, I found the strength to keep going for my children. They are my gift from God. They are my treasured garden and I love taking care of them and watching them grow.

    I was saved out of a horrible situation. Coming out of it was difficult. I suddenly became a displaced homemaker. Nothing to live on and three babies to take care of. That amazing journey made me stronger and grateful to be alive.

    On your journey of healing and reclaiming your self-worth, practice a greater sense of awareness and listen to your life. You will find meaning and the things you are meant to do.

    When I did this, two reoccurring themes echoed throughout my life. Writing and bullies.

    -I have been writing all my life. Fiction. Journaling. Copywriting. Poetry. Since grade school, people told me I was good at it.

    -I struggled with bullying for my whole life. I encountered my first bully in 4th grade. As an adult, I’ve experienced workplace bullying and marital abuse.

    We all struggle with something until we learn to overcome it. I became aware of my struggles. Now I help others to overcome theirs.

    Have you looked back lately? What have you learned?


    - Cheryl - Email Me: [email protected]
    Blog: https://yourreformation.wordpress.com

    • This topic was modified 7 months, 1 week ago by  Cheryl McKinney.
    • This topic was modified 7 months, 1 week ago by  Cheryl McKinney.
    December 3, 2024 at 4:32 AM #10163

    In reply to: Post-apocalyptic Fiction - Chapter One


    Cheryl McKinney
    Participant

    Good stuff Cody!

    I love how you captured the way she is processing the death that she is exposed to. And the way that her dad acts about it is spot-on for a parent who isn’t sure about how to help her to cope with such things but, wants to protect her.

    Your use of imagery is great too.That’s the fiction writing skill that I greatly lack. It’s amazing to be able to paint a picture with words.


    - Cheryl - Email Me: [email protected]
    Blog: https://yourreformation.wordpress.com

    December 2, 2024 at 8:24 PM #10131

    In reply to: Post-apocalyptic Fiction - Chapter One


    Cheryl McKinney
    Participant

    Wow! What a start! That’s chapter 1? I can already see a series with a prequel! Love it so far! I’m mainly a nonfiction writer who has never been able to grasp the skill of fiction writing. (I’ve tried and need to seriously work on my skills). But I sure love to read fiction!

    I soaked this right in. It went smooth and left me anticipating all that could happen. I especially loved these lines: “It’s like a whole damn country,” he said. “Aint no telling’ what’s in between.”

    Amazing that you are writing from the point of view of a teenage girl.I so respect fiction writers for being able to capture the perspective of characters and lay it out in such a realistic way. Love it! Can’t wait to see more Cody.

    Feel free to email me if you want feedback about future chapters, just in case I loose track here among so many other posts.

    P.S. I’m not pro editor, but I did notice 1 typo in the last paragraph and figured it would be helpful to let you know: “Was he was doubting the whole thing?” - was is written twice.

    Keep it coming, Cody!


    - Cheryl - Email Me: [email protected]
    Blog: https://yourreformation.wordpress.com

    November 30, 2024 at 1:01 AM #9985

    Topic: Post-apocalyptic Fiction - Chapter One

    in forum Writing Critiques

    Cody Burleson
    Participant

    When we set out for Dodd and Emma’s compound, my dad said I’d see things a girl my age should never see.

    I was fourteen years old and had spent the winter in a little country cabin where Dad and I took refuge during the outbreak. In a week at the hospital before leaving the city, we’d seen how fast the virus was spreading and how quickly it killed. We’d learned things about it before it even had a name - before it broke out in other places and before they shut the airports down. In that sense, I guess we were lucky that Mom was one of the first to get sick. Dad said that if we hadn’t left the city any sooner, we might not have made it out alive.

    All I knew about what happened thereafter was what we heard on a small hand-crank radio in the month before the broadcasting stopped. We sat by the fire under the mantle where we’d put Mom’s ashes and listened to the outside world fade into static and then silence. It was a somber kind of silence that lingered between us throughout all the frigid months that followed. We were in mourning.

    In late February, I got sick and Dad was afraid I might die. He never said it, but I could see it on his face. I woke up feeling better one morning and found him weeping. “You need to shave,” I told him. The way he looked at me, you would have thought I was my own ghost just passing through to say goodbye. He lifted a tired face from his hands, drug them firmly down his cheeks to wipe a spell away and just said, “Hm?”

    “I said, you need to shave. You look like a caveman.”

    He smiled and I saw once again, for the first time since Mom left us, the return of some of the light I thought she’d taken with her. That night while I watched him shave in the candlelight, he promised we’d hold out until the spring and then head south to find the compound.

    “If something happens to me, I don’t want you to be alone,” he said.

    So, we counted the days and as each passed, a feeling of hope grew within me. When I tried to imagine and prepare for what we might see out there, I couldn’t help but think of the good things we could find like a pair of jeans that actually fit me or maybe even a new generator. Secretly, I wished for the luxury of a good book. I’d survived the winter on nothing but a few issues of Better Homes and Gardens and, as suspected, never found use for bathroom makeover tips or even one of the sixty-three ways to get the look I wanted. And music. I missed it so bad.

    Dad started beating the sunrise each morning to run with the call of coyotes and check traps. I made coffee and watched from the window as he did pull-ups on the dock. He showed me exercises that he’d learned during basic training - leg lifts, squat thrusts, dive bombers, and mountain climbers. Before long, he could do thirty push-ups with me on his shoulders and his body reclaimed the shape of the Marine that he was.

    He put a map of Texas on the wall and plotted courses for the journey to Floresville, a place about thirty miles out from San Antonio. From where we were, it was a little over three-hundred miles by highway, but Dad thought we should stay off the main roads. He guessed we could make it in about three days. On the map, it didn’t look so far to me, but Dad said that Texas was as big as Australia.

    “It’s like a whole damn country,” he said. “Aint no telling’ what’s in between.”

    He sat against the edge of the dining table, folded his arms, sighed, and then made a clicking sound with his mouth, which I couldn’t quite decipher. Was he was doubting the whole thing? For a moment, I worried he might change his mind, but then he looked at me and raised his eyebrows as if to signal for my thoughts on the matter - whatever matter it was that I was supposed to have guessed.

    “It is what it is,” I said.

    I was ready.

    • This topic was modified 7 months, 2 weeks ago by  Cody Burleson.
    • This topic was modified 7 months, 2 weeks ago by  Cody Burleson.
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