Monday, August 13, 2007

Q. I is keeping a journal really worth while when I have tonnes of ideas and stories stored in my head?


A. Keeping a journal, exercise book of notes, rough jotting book, or a hundred small notes pinned on a board, is very much an individual choice. I can only say that in my own experience keeping a small note book of ideas, descriptions of places, people, faces, clothing, unusual housing …well anything that may take my eye had proven extremely helpful.
Sometimes finding where I last left the book can be more trouble than writing in it has ever been.
I guess many will say they keep a list stored on their computer but the computer may be at home and it is the instant recording of items of interest that will often be the best as they have the reality in the words that may be missing when a description is needed a few hours or even days later.
I definitely use mine a great deal. I have a large one for home and a small diary size for my handbag.
Try it for a few weeks, I’m sure you will find it an invaluable help. Liz ©

Q. I really want to be a writer but my friends and family don't take me seriously. How can I convince them?

A. There are not many of us who haven’t seen the barely undisguised look of disbelief on the face of a friend or family member when we have spoken about being a writer. Most try to be well mannered and don’t laugh out loud and very few pat us on the head and tell us we’ll get over it. But it happens.
It should, if you can remain focused on your writing make you more determined to succeed.
Join a writing group and mix with other people who are interested in writing, art or at least reading. They will be your support group.
When you have your first cheque or publication, no matter how small, tell the doubters and show them. Eventually the ‘look’ will fade out of their eyes. Liz ©

Q.When do I start calling myself a writer?

A. The minute you start writing and thinking about your writing every day. You don’t necessarily need to have been published, or paid for your work. If you write each day and you intend to make it the focus of your creative urge. Then you are a writer.
A scientist is someone who enters a lab searching for answers or cures that he may never find during the course of his life. He is still a scientist because that was his life’s work. A walker starts with the first step, a gardener with the turn of the first sod as she pictures in her head the design and colour of the created garden. You are what is inside your mind and heart. My daughter gave me a hanging which says ‘Life isn’t about finding yourself, it is about creating yourself ’ I wold add 'bring what is within you....out'.
Being a writer comes from inside you. It is up to you to bring it out and show everyone else that is what you are. LIZ ©

Thursday, June 7, 2007

F.A Q. I Want to be published is it important to enter competitions?

A. Most writers write hoping one day to see their work published. Some will not need to enter competitions, but they are the lucky few who somehow slip through to an editor because of their previous work in other fields or specialist knowledge about a particular subject.
The rest of us pounding away in our writing nooks need to build our skills and reputations as writers to have any hope of having a manuscript obtain a favourable glance from an editor.
Competitions give us the chance to show our abilities to judges from many areas and in all parts of the world. There are competitions everywhere and you may find your writing style and interests meet American, English or, if you are lucky enough to have other languages in your skills, Italian, Greek etc. ( I have a friend who writes children’s stories for the Spanish market. He is an Englishman living in Australia! The world is at our fingertips and sitting on our desks inside our computers. How lucky are we to live at such a time?)
The more competitions we enter, the more people will read our work and the closer we get to possibly winning enough accolades to have a C.V that will begin to make editors of magazines and publishers sit up and take notice.
If you are a beginner, you may be so naturally talented that you will take out a prestigious prize with your first effort. Most of us don’t have the well polished skills to do this.
So begin with smaller competitions which perhaps only offer publication in a journal, a book prize, or perhaps, just a small monetary reward for your efforts.(- TIP; Frame that first cheque and put it above your desk. It will inspire you on the days when the words won’t come! )- It all counts. One day you may go back to that first small winning story and with the experience and skills learned from constantly writing, turn it into your first published novel.
Try and read the winning stories of competitions you enter and analyse them as dispassionately as you can to find what it was that made them the winners. Re-read your own work and again try to see why it missed out. Polish it once more, try it from another angle, maybe play with different aspects and send it out again. Don’t relegate a good idea to lie languishing in the dark at the bottom of a box. If it was a good idea once, it will remain a good idea, it just was not perhaps expressed well enough. Enter it again refreshed if need be.
Liz. ©

F.A.Q Do I have to stick to the rules of a competition? Surely the judges won't mind a few extra words?

A. Ooooh yes they will! Those few extra words when it comes down to a tie between your work and the story of another writer who hasn’t bent the rules, will cost you the win.
The rules are there to be followed that’s why they are rules. Liz ©

F.A.Q Are competitions worth entering when I never win and each one costs me money in entry fees and postage?

The reasons for writing for competitions are;
1. They make you learn to meet deadlines.
2. They sometimes make you write and think about certain themes and subjects you may normally not try.
3. Because of the above they will help teach you to research a subject.
4. They teach you to express ideas within a limited word count.
5. They encourage you to let go of your ‘children’ and make them compete with others.
6. If you take the trouble to read the winning entries, you will learn to judge the level and competency of your work with a more practiced eye.
7. If you write for competitions regularly you build your body of work steadily and give yourself ideas to return to and develop into other articles, stories and novels.
8. If you don’t win with a story you were sure was an outstanding effort. You are entitled to have a rant, feel disappointed and decide to give it all up for golf or whatever. Remember there are probably hundreds of us feeling the same and you will know that we will all do as you will. After your first practice game of golf you will have thought of a good plot for a murder on the 9th green, a romance in the clubhouse, an article on the history of golf and golf equipment, a travel blurb on the problems of green keeping in equatorial regions, funny golf ticks and habits that people develop, the psychology of a golfing tyrant etc, etc WHY? Because you are a writer and that’s what you do! Let’s face it, golf will also cost you a lot more money than a few entry fees and you’ll probably get wet and catch a cold anyway.
Liz ©

Monday, May 14, 2007

This piece shows how an idea for a spin-off story can be used once more in a difference way. The poem entitled ‘ The Bridge’ printed below. The competition the prose is written for required a mention of a bridge, so I borrowed my own work. I hope you all enjoy reading it.
THE BRIDGE.
The sprinklers cast rainbows of water across the grass as I sat watching my small daughter play in the shadows of a magnolia tree.
After trying to occupy my thoughts with a popular women’s magazine I put it to a more practical use and fanned my face with its pages as I waited for my mother to arrive.
We always met in the park. Our unspoken thoughts coinciding in the knowledge we both needed a neutral meeting place.
Her infrequent visits to my home had always instigated a frenzy of housework as I optimistically hoped she would one day utter a word of approval. I was never organized and the dust which rested quietly on our furnishings enjoyed long periods of undisturbed tranquility.
My visits to her home set my nerves jangling, especially when the boys were young and constantly inquisitive, asking questions and making unflattering comments about the strictures put on them by ‘grandma’s rules’. I spent anguished hours worrying that their boisterous behavior would result in some precious ornament or plant being destroyed.

The boys had reached their teens when to my dismay, my mother’s namesake Vanessa arrived. From the time she was born this little girl was an astonishing revelation. After years of good natured chaos from our sons she was a quiet, introspective child, wholly absorbed with the natural world around her. She loved all things botanical and, anything with more legs than two. Already she could name a dozens more plants and insects than I had known existed.

Along the gravel path on the other side of the small ornamental lake which shimmered as a breeze stirred the surface, I could see my mother striding confidently toward the small Japanese style bridge which crossed the water to the path leading to where we sat.
Vanessa squealed with delight and rushed to meet her grandmother. I watched my child holding something up for her to admire and saw my mother take something from her capacious bag to show Vanessa. Never in all my life could I remember her listening so attentively to me.
In a moment of clarity I at last saw my role in their lives.
I had grown up like my father and therefore patently unsatisfactory in my mother’s eyes and would have always remained so but, by producing Vanessa I had redeemed myself. I had become the bridge which allowed these two souls to meet. I was their link. I realized that of all the things she disapproved of about me, Vanessa was the most perfect gift I could have given her. The thanks, praise and small commendations I had looked for all my life were given here in this park, each time we met.
I put my face up to the warmth of the sun and smiled at the illusions of age and time as their happy voices and laughter drifted across the humid air between us as they turned to walk hand in hand toward me.(C)



The End.
FQ. Q. I want to be published so is it important to enter competitions?
A. Most writers write hoping one day to see their work published. Some will not need to enter competitions, but they are the lucky few who somehow slip through to an editor because of their previous work in other fields or specialist knowledge about a particular subject.
The rest of us pounding away in our writing nooks need to build our skills and reputations as writers to have any hope of having a manuscript obtain a favourable glance from an editor.
Competitions give us the chance to show our abilities to judges from many areas and in all parts of the world. There are competitions everywhere and you may find your writing style and interests meet American, English or, if you are lucky enough to have other languages in your skills, Italian, Greek etc. ( I have a friend who writes children’s stories for the Spanish market. He is an Englishman living in Australia! The world is at our fingertips and sitting on our desks inside our computers. How lucky are we to live at such a time?)
The more competitions we enter, the more people will read our work and the closer we get to possibly winning enough accolades to have a C.V that will begin to make editors of magazines and publishers sit up and take notice.
If you are a beginner, you may be so naturally talented that you will take out a prestigious prize with your first effort. Most of us don’t have the well polished skills to do this.
So begin with smaller competitions which perhaps only offer publication in a journal, a book prize, or perhaps, just a small monetary reward for your efforts.(- TIP; Frame that first cheque and put it above your desk. It will inspire you on the days when the words won’t come! )- It all counts. One day you may go back to that first small winning story and with the experience and skills learned from constantly writing, turn it into your first published novel.
Try and read the winning stories of competitions you enter and analyse them as dispassionately as you can to find what it was that made them the winners. Re-read your own work and again try to see why it missed out. Polish it once more, try it from another angle, maybe play with different aspects and send it out again. Don’t relegate a good idea to lie languishing in the dark at the bottom of a box. If it was a good idea once, it will remain a good idea, it just was not perhaps expressed well enough. Enter it again refreshed if need be.
Liz. ©

F.A.Q Do I have to stick to the rules of a competition? Surely the judges won’t mind a few extra words?
A. Ooooh yes they will! Those few extra words when it comes down to a tie between your work and the story of another writer who hasn’t bent the rules, will cost you the win.
The rules are there to be followed that’s why they are rules. Liz ©

F.A.Q Are competitions worth while entering when I never win and each one costs me money in entry fees, postage etc?
The reasons for writing for competitions are;
1. They make you learn to meet deadlines.
2. They sometimes make you write and think about certain themes and subjects you may normally not try.
3. Because of the above they will help teach you to research a subject.
4. They teach you to express ideas within a limited word count.
5. They encourage you to let go of your ‘children’ and make them compete with others.
6. If you take the trouble to read the winning entries, you will learn to judge the level and competency of your work with a more practiced eye.
7. If you write for competitions regularly you build your body of work steadily and give yourself ideas to return to and develop into other articles, stories and novels.
8. If you don’t win with a story you were sure was an outstanding effort. You are entitled to have a rant, feel disappointed and decide to give it all up for golf or whatever. Remember there are probably hundreds of us feeling the same and you will know that we will all do as you will. After your first practice game of golf you will have thought of a good plot for a murder on the 9th green, a romance in the clubhouse, an article on the history of golf and golf equipment, a travel blurb on the problems of green keeping in equatorial regions, funny golf ticks and habits that people develop, the psychology of a golfing tyrant etc, etc WHY? Because you are a writer and that’s what you do! Let’s face it, golf will also cost you a lot more money than a few entry fees and you’ll probably get wet and catch a cold anyway.
Liz ©

Friday, April 6, 2007

Best Friends.



The atmosphere in the small kitchen was melancholy. How else could it be
after the death of Sandra's husband? A blackbird happily practicing his early spring song in the garden sounded incongruous in the heavy silence.
Suddenly Sandra spoke exasperatedly. "You know he made me feel unloved for
years? He always made me feel so unfeminine, even when we were young!"
Her loud voice shattered the silence as Mary stood in shocked disbelief at this statement.
Sandra was a well built, tallish woman, usually dressed in bright colors and who's
personality was so overwhelming, at times it seemed to bristle out and fill the space
around her.
"You've been married for thirty -seven years!" Mary at last replied.
"Mm, and I often wondered why."

"What do you mean you wondered why?"
"Why I stayed with him for so long?"
"You loved him didn't you?" Mary's voice broke as she asked
"I suppose. I did at the beginning. But, it didn't take me long to find he was weak
in so many ways. I despised his weakness and I lost my respect for him." She paused as she played with the sugar sweeping it about in the bowl. "He was clever, I'll grant himthat." Sandra added as an afterthought.
"Well." Mary's chin quivered a little. "Other women envied you such a charming man."
"Charm!" Sandra banged the table in front of her with her hand making Mary ump. "Don't talk to me about charm!" she continued. Her face tightening with anger.
Sometimes it made me feel sick seeing him playing up to fools taken in by his so-called.
charm.” "

Mary was stunned and overwhelmed by Sandra's words and turned to the sink
behind her, pretending to wash her already clean cup, in an effort to hide her confusion.
Her fluffy curls shook with her movements and her soft face vibrated a little as she tried to think clearly.
"Well, it's over now." She sighed heavily, " and you will miss him no matter what
you say."
"Oh yes. I will." Sandra agreed. "Oh yes, the house will be empty without him."
"Ready?" Mary queried.
"Almost. I have to get my coat It's good of you to come with me Mary." Her
voice softened a little as she looked at her friend of many years. She could be a generous and kind woman, Sandra reminded herself, as she contemplated her dumpy companion. It was strange that two women so different in outlook and character could get on so well for so long. Mary was a romantic and read 'drivel' as Sandra called it and she rarely ventured outside to do any physical activity.Sandra on the other hand. loved gardening and grubbing in the dirt. She enjoyed long walks and could often be seen striding along the paths of the small town accompanied by her dogs.
"It's the least I can do." Mary spoke softly, bringing Sandra out of her
thoughts. "After all, he was my friend too." Her voice broke as she turned away to the sink again.
"He had affairs you know."
Mary caught her breath momentarily.
"Oh yes, I knew." Sandra's voice became belligerent again. "He always
had someone else on a string. He just couldn't help himself Maybe it was because he
knew how I felt. Maybe he wanted to keep me angry with him. Who knows? He just had
to be always proving to himself how attractive he was to women. I just became sick of
the whole thing and got on with my life." She shrugged
"Did you know any of them?" Mary had to ask. Why to-day of all days did Sandra have to be so vindictive? It was getting too much for her.
"Oh yes. When we were younger he loved to make me jealous. It was a game with him. He loved the secrecy, it added an extra buzz to the affair but he liked me
to find out in time before it could get too 'difficult' for him and the woman would get too serious. Once I found out who it was, he would drop her and start looking for the next."
"He seemed to be such a good listener and so very understanding. " Mary was becoming more upset by the minute. Why, she wondered had they never spoken this intimately before? It could have saved so much hurt?
"Huh, listener my foot! He only appeared to listen. Usually his mind was somewhere else but, he knew giving someone the chance to talk: about themselves was sure way of getting them to like him."
"As she ended her venemous filled tirade Sandra looked up at caught a look of anger in Mary's eyes.
"You and he got on well didn't you? Did he ever tell you how he felt? Did he listen to your problems? Did he ever mention he wanted to leave me?"
"No... ... never." Mary's eyes slid away from Sandra's stare.
Sandra studied this woman she had known for so long, she knew when she knew she was lying. They had shared many things but had kept their intimate lives private. Being
the age they were. both women had been brought up to believe that private was just that,private.
She thought of shared things, had there been shared betrayals too? Little things
flitted through her mind. Pictures, fragments of memory. Gerry leaving her on her own
with the flu' while he rushes next door to fix Mary's washing machine. Gerry helping
Mary to carry heavy shopping and leaving her to struggle on her own. Gerry and Mary
sharing jokes, but not with her. All the little things that Gerry found to fix and do at Mary' house.
"What a fool I've been." She spoke menacingly as she walked around the table and stared in Mary's face. "You were the last one weren't you?" she hissed. "All the
years I thought you were my friend, but it was just an excuse for you to be near him. How stupid of me not to see it until now. How you both must have laughed at me . You treacherous bitch!"
She moved quickly and lashed her hand across Mary's face, shattering her glasses and flinging them across the floor.
Mary held her hands to her stinging cheek She was stunned, but could not retaliate. It was no use denying Sandra's accusations. Instead, her grief and guilt erupted
in an outpouring oflong held anger and tears streamed down her face making it look
blotched and older.
"I miss him even if you don't." she shrilled, fmding her voice at last "I loved him,
you didn't. You just liked to boss him about like some servant. It was only your money that kept him. You made him feel useless. unmanly. You didn't know what he needed. He needed a real woman. someone soft and gentle."
"Like you?" Sneered Sandra. "Soft. silly and simpering like you? Rolling your
eyes and giggling at him like some silly empty-headed teenager?" Sandra laughed "Oh
no. he needed someone with strength. That's why he played with you but stayed with me. He knew who would support and care for him if life got rough and yes. I did boss him and he loved it He hated taking responsibility. If I made the decisions that was good If they turned out to be bad decisions. it was my fault. he didn't have to take the blame or the responsibility."
"What? You truly think he was like that?"
"I know it my dear. I know it. Thirty seven years. remember?"
There was silence as the two women faced each other. reassessing and seeing each other anew.
Sandra sighed deeply and sat down at the table again.
"What's the use of this now? Tell me." she asked "What did he go to see you for the other night?"
Mary walked across the floor and began picking up the fragments of her glasses before she spoke. Then. slowly placing them on the table she tried to put her last
few moments of her time with Gerry into words.
"He came to say he wanted to finish our relationship." She fought back the tears as the memories flooded into her mind. "He said he knew he had made you unhappy for years and felt that now he was retired. he wanted to try and make amends. You know... make the last few years happier than the first ones."
Sandra's eyes widened and she asked huskily. "He really said that? You think he really meant it?" She tried to imagine Gerry confessing his remorse.
"Oh yes." Mary sobbed "He meant it Didn't he say anything to you when he got home? He said he was going to speak to you when he went back?"
The tears dripped off her chin and she remembered the anger and desolation that had overtaken her when Gerry, who had always promised her he would leave Sandra when he retired, made his announcement.
She had felt so betrayed and for a brief moment wanted to hurt him in return. Hurt him badly. In that brief terrifying time, she emptied the contents of three of
her heart medication capsules into his coffee. She wanted to make him sick enough to
need her, to stay with her. She didn't want to be alone anymore.
Now, she was unsure what had gone through her mind. All she knew was that he had died that night and it had been her fault She had been going to stop him from
drinking the coffee at the last minute but couldn't fmd the words quickly enough. The
sight of him swallowing its last dregs would haunt her forever.
"No, he didn't get the chance to speak to me." Sandra's voice came from miles away as she looked past Mary remembering Gerry walking into the kitchen. He had
tried to kiss her cheek but she had smelt the perfume on him. Might have guessed it was Mary's. She always wore something sweet and sickly.
She had told him crossly to leave her alone. He had shrugged and said he
felt a little ill and would lie down for a nap. He asked her to wake him, as he wanted to do something later.
She had sat in the kitchen brooding for a short time. Knowing he had been
with another woman again, and feeling incensed that he would still, after all these years,be playing the same silly games. All she wanted was a quiet few years, she was too tired of all the mind games that had been played for so long.
She thought he wanted to go out again to visit this new woman. Carefully,she had ground up some of her sleeping tablets and with a heap of sugar the way he liked
it, she took him in a drink . She remembered with a wrenching pain in her heart, that he had been grateful for her thoughtfulness. She had never thought they would be too much for him, that his heart had been weaker than she thought. She just wanted to keep him at home and make sure he missed his appointment with the other woman.
He died in the ambulance on the way to the hospital. Heart attack"brought on by stress of some sort, plus he did have very high cholesterol. " Their family doctor
had patted her shoulder sympathetically.
The two women sat in silence, each occupied by their terrifying thoughts. Each
felt responsible and guilty. Neither could share their secret.
"If only he had been honest with us." Mary said sadly
"If only. .. lots of things." Sandra sighed
Sandra was the first to break the silence again. This time her voice had regained its customary resolute tone.
"Ready now?"
"Oh yes. " Mary fussed with her gloves and knitted hat. "Umm. There was no mention of an autopsy was there?" she asked, her head shaking a little.
"Good Heavens no!" Sandra exclaimed, amazed that Mary should have voiced her greatest fear. "Oh no, nothing like that was mentioned. Why on earth would they?" she demanded wide-eyed.
"Oh. No reason. " Mary hastened to placate her as they closed the door behind them.
"I believe this funeral director has a nice manner and won't try to push something
too expensive onto me. "Sandra spoke in a casual conversational manner. "After all, a
cremation is the most sensible decision anyway."
"Oh I agree." Mary nodded vigorously "I agree."

The End ©My Write

Thursday, March 29, 2007

The Bridge.



Soft, pink hand clasps dry and worn.
Sweet treble voice blends with low and calm.
Small feet dance round walking brogues.

Sun rains down through Oak leaves rustling.
Gravel scrunches, sprinklers tap, tap.
Whispering water across grass.

One squeals, the other laughs. One spins, the other claps.
One falls, the other cries out, feeling her pain.
So close the connection.

In the dancing shade, I am the bridge
Where two souls meet; my mother, my daughter.
Time, age. All an illusion.



The End
I am writing a list of F.A.Q and their answers at the moment for the Geelong Writers magazine ‘Geelong Ink’.
As each section is completed I shall post them on this blog site.
Some of the writers I help and mentor may find them useful for future reference.
Anyone wanting to reproduce them elsewhere please remember that I retain copyright on all printed matter unless stated otherwise.




Frequently Asked Questions.

How Do I Write A Covering Letter?
Your covering letter for a short story intended for a magazine or newspaper should not be a ‘format’ letter which is sent to every editor or publisher you contact.
Each time you finish a manuscript, before sending it to anyone; you should search your market thoroughly and find the most suitable magazine or publication for your work.
You can only do this by reading the magazines and the internet sites of your prospective publications and become thoroughly conversant with their needs and the type of writing they will accept.
It won’t matter how good your work is – if it doesn’t suit the style or the guidelines of the publication you send it to, you have wasted both your time and theirs.
Find out the name of the editor you wish to send your work to.
A Dear Sir/ Madam beginning, shows you have made very little effort to research the most basic information.
Editors are noted for being small gods in the realms in which they work and enjoy being treated as such. They will rejoice in the fact you have addressed your missive to them personally. Of course very few of them will be polite enough to address your rejection notice to you personally, but that is just a fact of being a writer. Sending your query letter to the wrong editor and hoping it will be forwarded on – well. You’re dreaming!
Don’t waffle. The editor doesn’t care whether you are married, single or have two heads. He/ she- these days the majority of editors are women- reads thousands of words in a week and these and your ability to grab attention with a direct, concise and well written letter will matter most of all..
Your writing is your business. Therefore write your cover letter in a business like manner.
Include your name, phone number and email address. It is surprising how many people forget to put contact details on their letters. State you have enclosed a copy of your work…”The World’s Best Short Story’….for them to read as you think it meets their magazine’s criteria. (Naming your story is a must in case it becomes detached from your letter and she doesn’t know who to send the cheque to).

List your writing credentials if you have any worth listing. The fact you wrote for the school magazine is not what they want to know. If you mention your science degree and your short story is a gothic horror tale, it will probably not be the riveting piece of information which will ensure your acceptance and publication. Keep your information to the point and relevant to the market.
Thank him/her in advance for taking the time to read your work and enclose a self addressed and stamped envelope for the return of your manuscript.
End with, ‘yours faithfully’ or, ‘yours sincerely’……
Editors are busy people they make fast and usually; final judgments, don’t try cajoling them.
A well written one page letter will allow them to see you can string your words together and have made an effort to study their publication.
They don’t wish to know you are a novice- your writing will soon tell them that. They don’t wish to know you have always longed to be a writer, or that your family think you write really well.……on a bad day at the office, just for the heck of it, they may prolong your wait even longer! They are after all only human.
My Write (C)













How Do I Find My Voice?

This question is a little like asking how you become a well balanced and mature human being in ten easy lessons. It won’t happen that way.
Writing is a process, a craft. As with any craft or process the longer and harder you work at it the better you will become and the areas of your proficiency will begin to show up clearly. You will feel more comfortable within some areas than others and your ‘voice’ will become stronger, more confident and the strain of writing in that area will diminish as the pleasure increases.
It’s bit tiring listening to writers and artists complain about the ‘pain’ their work gives them and on a personal note, I feel it is a self indulgence and something of a pose.
The old saying ‘write what you know about’ rings true.
We have all tried the epic topics at one time or another at the beginning of our writing lives. Most of us failed dismally. Some of us have even found that it isn’t the large things in life which become our specialty but the small everyday things that affect all of humanity.
As a junior first year cadet journalist, the ‘weather reports and the lost dogs and cats’ were my first assignments. My editor did not send me out to cover the latest political scandal or the major motor accidents, because I wouldn’t have known where to start. This thinking applies to any writing, fiction or fact.
Just keep writing each day or as often as you can about whatever takes your fancy.
The more comfortable you feel about your subject the faster you will find your ‘voice’. Then, you can like a singer, start to train it. Many people believe they would like to write but they spend so much time talking about it they don’t leave any time to actually DO it.(C)

My Write(C)