TIPS for WRITING TALES.
The old
lady was once an adventurous young freelance writer and poet teaching English
overseas for many years, just to earn money to pay for her incoming bills, kill
time and hunt the thrill for good stories
to write and publish back home in the States, if God allowed.
Teaching
English Overseas was her bread and butter for a long time.
What is
a good story? I wonder…
Begin to
practice with writing exercises in your notebook’s outlines, journals or diary
entries.
Choose
to work with a “quote” that you have memorized. It could be a proverb, idiom,
Bible Verse, etc. Write for about 10 minutes or so on what this quote means to
you, and how it might be applied to others. We yearn to be moved by words, by
actions, thoughts and the world of others, real or imagined. When you tell a
story, string the words together in an electrifying fashion to boost and
capture the readers’ attention. It’s all about how you do it, in order to
produce a great impact in your readers. Do NOT tell a boring story, yet an
amusing one!
For
instance…
Proverb:
“Money is the root of all evil in the material world.”
Who
comes for one’s spiritual rescue? I wonder…
In my
case, God shows me the way. All I wish to do is to please and serve as a humble
Messenger for the Lord with lasting moral values. Plus, I wish to be a
volunteer soul for the ones in need, also to help our natural environment,
animals and living species. There is no money exchanged dealing with these kind of interactions.
Long
ago, I wrote a short tale inspired in the eyes of a lonely wolf.
“To a
cold farewell, I lay a flame with the rose.”
My
allowance came to a halt at that point. It had been a free ride to dreamland,
the land of poetry. My poetic inspirations were killed with harsh words…
Cruelty
and the abuse of power should not be the name of the game. I prayed to God for
a complete change in the world.
A keen
wind whispered sad news. My emotions were churned, aroused and stirred up to a
boiling point to make my blood vessels drip. A thought flashed through my mind.
The sparkle of his beautiful eyes were shut forever. Then, a precious life was
shattered into silence. I could imagine his feeble body streamed with blood. He
was a bridge over trouble water. He used to play and cuddle with his best
friend. I could still hear his howl, when he was still roaming as the ancient
lonely wolf.
The
blanket of ice would remain his epitaph. The hunter killed the story and my
heart with it.
How
could a good story-teller slay the main character in the beginning of his play,
and pretend that his readers would keep on watching his bloody game?
There is
no fun for me to read a story without good guys and with a good ending. Do NOT
slay the hero, for he/she should survive until the end!
My
dreams for a better life was stolen, when a hand pulled the trigger and stole
the wolf’s life at a single touch. My heart mourned the one I had begun to love…
On the
cold ice of farewells, I lay a flame with the rose of love to warm up the
wolf’s lonely grave. That fact was the last straw.
SAVE THE WOLVES!
SAVE THE WOLVES!
Author: Starry Dawn.
