Twu Woemance

Max blew a deep, warm breath into a cupped hand and buffed the marble against his flannel shirt. This was his most prized possession, a gift passed down from Grandpa Wilson. It wasn’t really a marble at all, just a perfectly round stone embedded with tiny crystals and multi-colored swirls of turquoise and corral. Grandmother said it held magical powers.  
Max found Cecelia under their favorite tree, where he’d carved their initials inside a heart last week.
“I have something for you,” he whispered, placing his hand in hers.
She opened her palm. “Oh great, a freakin’ rock. How woemantic.”
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Critiquing Fiction

Three and half years ago my neighbor, Linda Apple http://www.lindacapple.com/ , invited me to attend a meeting of the NWA Writers Workshop http://www.nwawriters.org/index.php. I had been writing poetry and songs for most of my life, but had only written two or three short stories and had no earthly idea what I was doing. Boy, was my life about to change.
These folks welcomed me into the group like I was a long lost cousin from their favorite aunt’s side of the family. They must have the patience of Job to tolerate someone as backwoods and ignorant as me. Not only are they willing to share their vast knowledge and expertise, they even invited me attend writers conferences with them.
Today, in an effort to pay forward, I’m going to share some important information that will make you a better writer. You will recognize the story below, but the names have been changed due to the witness protection program.
RICO and JANET
Go, Rico, go!
See Rico go.
Can Janet go? Yes, see Janet go.
          Plenty of action in this scene, but a lot of repetitive words. Also, it’s lacking a sense of place. Where are we—a football game, the beach, on a treadmill? Who’s telling the story (point of view, or POV in writer talk)?
See Fido run.
Fido bit Fluffy.
“Bad Fido, bad,” said Janet.
          Finally some dialogue. How did Fluffy feel? Add some internalization here. Invoke the five senses—has Fido rolled in something dead? What does Fluffy’s fur taste like?
In this example, I’ve only point out some of the most obvious flaws in this story. It’s not bad writing, it just needs a little help.
What suggestions would you give this author to improve the story?

Welcome, and thanks for stopping by.

For two years, friends have been telling me I should start a blog. Overcoming laziness and procrastination is never easy, especially when you hold a master’s degree in both fields of study.
I’m a visual learner who requires personal instruction to become mediocre at performing simple tasks (no, I’m not from Missouri). For example, Connie has spent thirty-six years trying to teach me how to use a broom and mop. I still haven’t mastered it and probably never will. Yet, I admire her patience and persistence when dealing with a cleaning challenged individual.
One thing I want to make clear from the start—this is an interactive blog. Don’t expect to sit there all comfy and relaxed while I do all the work. My job here is to provide thought provoking topics and pose serious questions whereby the entire readership, working as a team, can solve the mysteries of the universe.
Be prepared to respond when I attack you with hard-hitting questions such as;
  • What did you have for breakfast?
  • Ginger or Mary Ann?
  • Is that a booger hanging out of your nose?
I want to hear about that cousin who ain’t quite right. You know the one.
Tell me something he/she did that was so stupid or funny you laughed until tears rolled down your cheeks.
Mandie Hines Author

Horror, Psychological Thrillers, Flash Fiction, and Poetry

The Phantom Rem

Stories From Within

Lorna's Voice

Finding ways to make words sparkle

The Incoherent Ramblings Of A Moose

This is the blog of a woman who is seriously on the edge and I mean right ON the edge…no, not there… just a little bit further… further than that…no, further still…just a tiny bit more… just move slightly to the right a little…no, that’s too much…just move a tad to the left…that’s right, just there…now you’ve moved too far to the left… Damn, what part of the ‘on the edge’ do you not understand? Oh, and her matricidal boy genius, come devil spawn.

Sharing sarcasm, snark, and satire with the world...

Or the three people I guilted into reading this blog, whatever.

Rochelle Wisoff-Fields-Addicted to Purple

Growing older is inevitable. Growing up is optional.

Problems With Infinity

Confessions of a Delusional Maniac

ParkInkSpot

I may make you feel, but I can't make you think.

TheDustSeason

All the Blogging That's Fit To Print

www.immodiumabuser.com

AS I TOLD THE GIRL THAT I LOST MY VIRGINITY TO, THANKS FOR LAUGHING AT ME HERE TODAY.

Dimitris Melicertes

I don't write, I touch without touching.

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A Humor Blog

Linda Vernon Humor

Stylistically Abusing Language for the Betterment of Mankind

TALES FROM THE MOTHERLAND

Straight up with a twist– Because life is too short to be subtle!

Lori Ericson, Author

An author's perspective of mystery and more.

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And the worst things. And all that weird stuff in between.