By Concepción de León, The New York Time
As a tween, whenever my dad wanted me to do something for him, like deposit a check or write a letter or call customer service, he’d stop mid-instruction, give me a stern look and ask, “Are you writing this down?” Imagine a 12-year-old eye roll here. To my mind, I had an airtight system in place, relying on made-up medleys with a simple beat: check, letter, call Time Warner; check, letter, call Time Warner. If this sounds like a terrible strategy: You’re right, and it rarely worked. Read on
by Emily J. Smith
He made us lie on the couch in the small, dark apartment. This wasn’t just his favorite album; the work — from start to end — had changed him on a fundamental level. He wanted me to not just hear it, but experience it. My back against his stomach, his arms wrapped tightly around my too-small body. He suggested I close my eyes. His lack of embarrassment was astonishing, intoxicating. Several times I was on the verge of falling off the couch, but it didn’t matter. I had never believed in anything as much as he believed in this album. There was no world in which whatever came out of those speakers wouldn’t change me, too. I was already changed. Read on
by Felicia Sullivan
When people tell me that the mark of a writer is someone who commits to a word count or page count every day, I want to do two things: wipe their smug platitude clear across their face and laugh. Mostly, I laugh the laugh of crazed serial killers—the kind of back-of-the-throat guttural cackle that causes most people to slowly step away.
I’ve been writing since I was a child, and the idea of starting my day in front of a blank page is just as comforting as gouging out my eyes with an acetylene torch. Over the past decade, I’ve had two of my books published by traditional houses while balancing demanding jobs and a full-time life. And guess what? I didn’t have time for the romanticized writer existence where one sips freshly brewed coffee while wearing their threadbare robe as depicted in bad movies and blog posts. Of course, all writers are the coffee-guzzling, unkempt superstitious sort. Read on
Become a member of the Writer’s Quilt
By Brian Kurian
A simple guide you can use to find and develop your writing voice.
“When you are trying to find your writing voice don’t try to emulate any writer, not even your favorite. Sit quietly, listen, listen again, then listen some more and write out everything the voice says with no censoring — none — not one word.”
― Jan Marquart, The Basket Weaver
Many of you might be new to Blogging and writing. You might be reading some of the posts by some of the Writers on Medium thinking to yourself:
Good writing is hard. It’s okay to have help.
by Julia Rose
If it makes sense in your head, why doesn’t it sound the same when you write?
Translating thoughts and ideas to paper (or in the modern world, the Google Doc) is easier said than done. I write often and I appreciate the help of these 5 tools. Even if writing is not your profession, I’m certain you will enjoy using many of these apps.
We all write emails, texts, and facebook messages, after all.
Oh, did I mention they’re all free?
What about the common practice of using pen names? Is it an acceptable business practice or more misleading marketing?
The use of a pen name, also known as nom de plume, by professional writers is common and, in general, accepted. As you probably know, one of the most famous examples is American author and humorist Samuel Clemens who used the pen name, Mark Twain.
Let’s look at some of the common reasons why authors use pen names and then explore how they apply to online marketers.
Common Reasons Why Authors Use Pen Names
Read the rest of this entry