Dare to Write

For all writers fact or fiction this post might be of help or simply encourage us to keep writing

4am Writer

Summer is finally here!

This has always been a nostalgic time of year for me. As a kid, I spent my days devouring stories–less a book worm and more a book serpent. I could never get enough. There was never enough time. Summer reading always brings to mind stories like Wuthering Heights, The Secret Garden, Treasure Island, Nancy Drew mysteries, and Thornton Burgess animal stories.

When I wasn’t reading (or harrassed by my younger sister) I was writing my own stories. With no demands on my time other than to swim, picnic, or explore the woods, writing was a carefree luxury that I indulged in daily.

Now older, with children of my own, and more serious demands made on my time, writing and reading for pleasure are rare activities for me. I often hear the same from my coaching clients–how difficult it is to fit writing into a life that is already…

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A Dragon named Frank with a hot problem

Breeze was smiling because he could smell his favorite smell – cakes baking. He slid off the branch and began to wander through the forest. He knew if he took his time he would miss the messy washing up bit and land at Tulips door in time for afternoon tea and cake.

His smile lasted for about ten seconds. It was the saddest looking dragon who took his happy smile away. The dragon was green and miserable.

“Hey, What is wrong with you buddy?” Breeze asked.

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“My life is ruined and all because of my hot breath.” The dragon mumbled.

Breeze frowned and sat down, a safe distance away, from the grumpy dragon.

“But, Frank even I know that your speciality is fire breathing” Breeze spoke softly not wishing to annoy the small dragon.

“Yes but not when you love flowers and want to be a botanist.”

“A what?” Breeze looked about him wondering if he had fallen on his head and was having a terrible nightmare, because not one bit of this conversation was making sense to him.

“I like studying and growing flowers but it won’t work cos often, much too often they end up looking like toast.”

Breeze opened  his mouth, closed it and opened it again. He was afraid to say what he was thinking.

The dragon spoke for him. “No burnt flowers do not taste like toast. They simply look burnt.”

“Okay I know what to do lets talk to Elegant witch.” Breeze stood, told Frank where to meet him and ran off to see Elegant.

Unfortunately for him she wasn’t baking, she was cleaning her house using a broom.

Breeze watched her work and frowned. The world is gone upside down, he thought, dragons who want to potter about in the garden and witches who use a broom for sweeping. 

Her chuckle startled him. “I heard that Breeze and no I am not crazy. I just like sweeping.” Putting down the broom she asked him, “What problem have you brought to me today?”

Breeze told her about Frank. It was Elegants turn to look worried. “If I stop his fiery breath, the others will not like it.” Elegant began to pace about the room. There was a bee dancing on the window ledge, very gently Elegant shooed it from the room. Then she turned to Breeze, “That is the answer.”

Breeze frowned. He didn’t think a bee on a window was an answer to anything but he knew Elegant to be a clever witch so he waited for her to return.

Frank arrived as Elegant finished her spell. When the dragon nervously asked her if she could help, she smiled and held out the hat for him. “It is smashing but won’t it go on fire too?”

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Breeze moved out of the way and said, “Try it” then as fast as he could he ran to Tulips house. Afterall if the magical beekeepers helmet worked the dragon would be happy and if it didn’t then Breeze might have a lot of ashes to sweep up and Breeze hated sweeping.

 

Thousands of Indie Authors Can Participate in the 1st Annual Indie Author Day! — Annette Rochelle Aben

Re-blogged from The Story Reading Ape. CLICK THROUGH to the ORIGINAL POST for the information on how we can all come together in International Solidarity of Indie Authors! Excerpt from an announcement on Writers Win site: Mark your calendars! Libraries across North America will host local events for the first annual Indie Author Day on […]

via Thousands of Indie Authors Can Participate in the 1st Annual Indie Author Day! — Annette Rochelle Aben

What Breeze hates most…..

Everyone in the wood knows the green faced Ogre called Breeze loves trees, cupcakes and food in general. But Breeze was surprised one afternoon when Lily refused to eat her broccoli and instead of grumbling about being told to eat it. She said “Everyone I know hates something but what do you hate Mr. Breeze?”

He crunched on his own raw broccoli and considered his answer carefully.

Lily pushed her vegetables around on her plate while she waited for his answer.

“I hate, Rain.”

“Why?” She smiled up at him and when he looked away she slid some broccoli on his plate.

“Because it makes sitting on branches of trees difficult, I keep sliding off.” He rammed a piece of broccoli into his large mouth.

Her answering giggles didn’t please him. Lily noticed and said, “Sorry but you like sliding on branches.”

“Yes but not when I am trying to sleep and there is this picture I got from that sneaky dog – Bob.”

Lily sat up, delighted that Bob had been mentioned as this meant the whole problem of eating or not eating broccoli would now be forgotten. “Bob? What has he done?”

“He watches me falling off branches in the rain and I bet he laughs a lot at it.” Breeze scratched his chin and looked very bothered at this thought.”

“Can I see the photo?” She asked

While Breeze ambled to the back of his cave to collect the picture Lily pushed the remaining broccoli onto his plate just in time as Breeze returned.

“See, what he does?”

 

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“He is a clever Dog, hiding from the rain,” she mumbled. She noticed Breeze’s sad expression and suggested, “But he doesn’t make Lily the nicest Ice cream sundaes in the whole wide world.”

Breeze grinned. “You are correct, lets go and make some extra large ones.”

Lily jumped down from her chair only too happy that the horrible broccoli was now forgotten.