Man On The Earth.

Do you know where this is going? Excuse me... but I find this is offensive to stereotype fiction as reeking something fierce. This embarrassment scorches my lonely soul. I'm not really alone. My heart is full. My soul isn't empty. But writers from writers' meetings can't help purge the demons trapped inside. Can't you smell that smell? Nobody wants to be around what smells like vulgar characters from different socioeconomic levels. But Canada is great and everybody loves this

Stop... walk into the room. It's a workshop on sensory writing and you're waiting for the touch, taste or scent. But a primary sense of sight takes hold first for the observer, describing the drab room, quality of light and person in a way that's never been described before. "Oh God, he's aged badly. Look at the wrinkles! I can't stop observing the freakish contours on his face," she says. But my reddish nose (dimmed red under light to reveal I'm a recovering alcoholic) smell

Believe me... it'll smell bad, but sometimes you'll release your feelings onto the page right after letting it rip. Don't flail your hands attempting to get rid of the odor, because it won't go away until it's ready. The writing on the page won't fix itself, until you're ready. Write, rewrite and edit. Sometimes you'll get to a new idea and blank page. You control the art. If you're working with fiction on characters communicating with technology, then you better understand t

It might sound almost sexual... but when the beauty comes from rewriting, just keep on writing and don't stop. I imagine the tranquility of Elbow Lake in Sudbury, then focus on the writing process. And when I can prioritize my time and sit down and go through my story, it happens so fast. "Make no mistake: The art of writing is in rewriting." ― Writer's Digest. I redraft as a I go along. Sometimes it slows down. But whenever I get stuck in my novel, I go back to the beginning