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Stories in Writers that you’ll love, handpicked by our team.
Why Writing is so Difficult, but Worth its Weight in Gold.
Breaking into the writing profession (whether freelance or otherwise) is far from easy. Then again, I was not searching for the writing profession to accept with me with open arms. The profession came to me. In case you are wondering; the structure of this is part memoir, part wisdom.
By Justine Crowley3 years ago in Writers
#1
from a young age I’ve always enjoyed writing it seemed to be the only thing that could keep me together, in all the chaos of life. It wasn’t always the best, my child that is. There was a lot of rough patches, sadness and a lot of bullying. The only place I had to go was into the forest. With my pen and paper.
By Sarah urffer3 years ago in Writers
Can We Stop Writing Stories with Titles That Are Questions Now Please?
Author's preface: Another story that was mysteriously not approved for publication the first time around. Somehow my account got flagged as AI or spam. Flattered but obviously not true. I am a real person I can assure you of that. Also, there is no such thing as AI, but that is a topic for a different article. LOL!
By Everyday Junglist3 years ago in Writers
My First Piece Was a Sonnet
My first piece of writing was a poem that was lost long ago along with my early innocence. My first memorable piece, which is still with me a few decades later, was a sonnet (The Yellow Afternoons of October) in honour of Sigmund Freud, who I was reading (studying) at the same time that I was learning Shakespeare. What joy and sadness from both! They are still two of my favourite writers. I received a BA in English and a BA in psychology, although the latter was not as rewarding as the former, since Freud was being brazenly bashed, mostly by individuals in denial. Interestingly, my favourite course ever, and I have close to twenty years of graduate studies, was titled Freud and Literature. Those were the days, and nights.
By Patrick M. Ohana3 years ago in Writers
Do It Scared
I believe it was the winter of 2006 when I logged on to the family computer. It was a big hunk of a thing and sat on a wooden desk in what was aptly named the computer room. There were other things in there besides the computer – the ironing board, boxes upon boxes of old family videos, and the overall miscellaneous junk that tends to get accumulated over time that doesn’t have anywhere else to go. But it’s the computer room, because that’s the main purpose of it.
By Alivia Varvel3 years ago in Writers
