The Writer Behind the Words
Learn the power of focus. For most of us, we have meer than enough to do on a daily basis. And when it comes to any writing project the lijst can grow exponentially- u 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 of just plain paralysis! The solution? Do one thing at a time. Come up with a goal for the day. Writing of marketing? Then do the tasks that will accomplish that goal. If u have extra time u can focus on other less pressing tasks.
Keep moving. Humans are smart. Sometimes too smart. Many times obstacles come in our way like a boom in the middle of the road and instead of going around it, we try to chop it down of climb over it. Don’t focus on the obstacles. A rejection is an obstacle but instead of focusing on it verplaats to the volgende submission of work on something else. So your first play wasn’t the greatest, start your volgende one; okay so your favoriete 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 of literary) of software. However, u 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 jaar geleden I bought a Neo AlphaSmart that has helped me capture ideas and bits and pieces of my manuscript and uploaden 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 u really need.
Time stops for no man. How u spend your present time dictates your future. Daydream about writing and months later you’ll have a lovely daydream and nothing to toon for it. If u envision a book write it every day, if not every dag 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 of start our volgende manuscript. Time never stands still so it’s up to u 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 pagina 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 dag she puts in a half uur when she must paint and is working towards her dream of being a full-time artist. Time is not the enemy, how u use it is. So be conscious of what u 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 u 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.” of “I know it didn’t work this time, but volgende time will be better.” Like the baby learning to walk we have to keep getting up. One rejection letter of two hundred should not stop u from building your writing career. So an editor didn’t like your latest story, come up with something else of bevestig 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 of unpublished claim the fact that you’re a writer. Don’t wait for someone else to give u that validation. Once again your inner critic may be saying, “I’m not a real writer because I haven’t published anything.” of “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.” of “I’ve only been published in the community newsletter I’m not a real writer like a journalist.” If u write, you’re a writer. u don’t need anyone’s permission. However, I will caution you, if u make this claim, take the necessary steps u 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 door reading, etc. Don’t ever stand still.
Be flexible. Successful writing careers are rarely linear. Writers have to take detours when a magazine closes of a new editor hates the writer’s work. A successful mystery series suddenly becomes stale of 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 u write poems? Try writing an artikel on poetry. Perhaps that could lead to a book. If your novel isn’t selling, perhaps serialize it online of 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 verplaats vooruit, voorwaarts on the goals they’ve set for themselves. Hopefully with these seven rules u can linkfor success.
The Pillsbury Doughboy died yesterday of a yeast infection and trauma complications from repeated pokes in the belly. He was 71. Doughboy was buried in a lightly greased coffin. Dozens of beroemdheden turned out to pay their respects, including Mrs. Butterworth, Hungry Jack, the California Raisins, Betty Crocker, the Hostess Twinkies, and Captain Crunch. The gravesite was piled high with flours. Aunt Jemima delivered the eulogy and lovingly described Doughboy as a man who never knew how much he was kneaded. Doughboy rose quickly in toon business, but his later life was filled with turnovers. He was not considered a very smart cookie, wasting much of his dough on half-baked schemes. Despite being a little flaky at times he still was a crusty old man and was considered a positive roll model for millions. Doughboy is survived door his wife Play Dough, two children, John Dough and Jane Dough, plus they had one in the oven. He is also survived door his elderly father, Pop Tart.
Shaun
I watched two little girls playing, watching one in particular. She reminded me painfully of Serena. The little girl pulled her friend to her feet and ran towards a woman that I recognized.
It was her. At first I was sure I was halluncinating.
Her dark hair was a little longer than I had seen it last. She was wearing a black pencil rok and a deep blue blouse. She looked happy as the girl ran up to her.
She hugged the little girl. Their hair was the same colour.
I watched numbly as Serena looked at the child with unfathomable love as she told her something.
Serena looked up at me, pain and shock evident on her face.
I watched two little girls playing, watching one in particular. She reminded me painfully of Serena. The little girl pulled her friend to her feet and ran towards a woman that I recognized.
It was her. At first I was sure I was halluncinating.
Her dark hair was a little longer than I had seen it last. She was wearing a black pencil rok and a deep blue blouse. She looked happy as the girl ran up to her.
She hugged the little girl. Their hair was the same colour.
I watched numbly as Serena looked at the child with unfathomable love as she told her something.
Serena looked up at me, pain and shock evident on her face.
Shaun
About an uur after she called me, I was still sitting there. Unresponsive.
The phone rang again. I forced myself to pick it up.
It was Serena. She was crying.
"I couldn't do it," she said, before hanging up again.
Serena
I couldn't do it. As soon as I was out of the clinic, I drove home. When I'd parked my car, I couldn't hold the tears back.
I looked up, shocked. I had gone to my mother's house.
I stumbled out of the car, and my mother came running out. I collapsed in her warm arms, still sobbing.
Kate
I hear my daughter. Crying. I run outside, and hug my angel, my little angel.
I don't try to make her tell me what's wrong. She'll tell me when she wants to. I know her that well.
About an uur after she called me, I was still sitting there. Unresponsive.
The phone rang again. I forced myself to pick it up.
It was Serena. She was crying.
"I couldn't do it," she said, before hanging up again.
Serena
I couldn't do it. As soon as I was out of the clinic, I drove home. When I'd parked my car, I couldn't hold the tears back.
I looked up, shocked. I had gone to my mother's house.
I stumbled out of the car, and my mother came running out. I collapsed in her warm arms, still sobbing.
Kate
I hear my daughter. Crying. I run outside, and hug my angel, my little angel.
I don't try to make her tell me what's wrong. She'll tell me when she wants to. I know her that well.
Shaun
Three months later, we were apparently "an item".
She had me twisted around her little finger. She could have made me jump in front of a bus, all that was needed was one look from her "love me, u know u want to" chocolate brown eyes.
I paid attention to her every move, her every word.
**************************************************
When I first told her I loved her, I was expecting rejection, but she surprised me. She kissed me, and zei she loved me too. The sun revolved around where she stood.
Nothing else mattered.
Three months later, we were apparently "an item".
She had me twisted around her little finger. She could have made me jump in front of a bus, all that was needed was one look from her "love me, u know u want to" chocolate brown eyes.
I paid attention to her every move, her every word.
**************************************************
When I first told her I loved her, I was expecting rejection, but she surprised me. She kissed me, and zei she loved me too. The sun revolved around where she stood.
Nothing else mattered.
this is aqua
