Scenes: Mini Stories? by Emma Marie Leigh

I wanted to pick up with my thoughts from my last post. Basically it revolved around how I’m really good at beginnings and how I should make that work for me in a way that leads to finally ty…

Source: Scenes: Mini Stories? by Emma Marie Leigh


The Satire Writer Who Didn’t Understand Satire by Emily Cooper

We’ve had some really great posts on here about overcoming fear, self doubt, deadlines, etc. All of these things play a part in our evolution as writers. There is another thing I’d like…

Source: The Satire Writer Who Didn’t Understand Satire by Emily Cooper

The Finish Line by Emily Cooper

Happy Authors Guild

2015 has been a busy year for me. Maybe the busiest, most stressful year of my life. Because of that, writing originally got thrown on the back burner. I know, I know. You have to make time. If you’re really dedicated you’ll steal moments all day to dedicate to your writing. And that makes total sense. But most of the time my brain felt fried and the thought of having to focus on anything other than school and work made me just crawl into the bathtub.

I believe that is a condition of novice writers. Looking back now, I know fear had more to do with my lack of productivity than anything. I’d never really finished anything but super short stories before. And maybe my subconscious kept it that way because if I never finish a novel, then no one ever has to read it.

There is only one way…

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So I’m writing a blog?

Busy. For months, I’ve been more busy than I have ever been in my life, and the light at the end of the month isn’t anywhere in sight. I mean, it’s there, it’s just not something I can tangibly see right now. I haven’t even looked at a short story in over a month, much less worked on my novels. They are just little half formed skeletons on my shelf, which might sound cool, but it’s not.

I’m in this tunnel and every one says it’s okay. It’s okay not to write every day or even every week. It’s okay to just take things one day at a time. It’ll get easier, the light will come.

But when you’re halfway through the tunnel and you can’t turn back even if you wanted to, it gets depressing. By the end of the day between a new job, school, and moving, my brain is so fried the words on my screen just blur together. I can’t even remember the last time I had an idea. You know, those bubbles of inspiration that you just have to write down? Nope, not a one.

I know all the advice about making time, I just don’t know how to apply it to my life right now. And I’m sure in a week, maybe two, it will feel better.

I want to be one of those people who can just write. Hell, I want to be one of those people who can risk it all and quit their job and just write.


On a less depressing note, some of my short stories were published this month. And since I’m super slow at this writing thing and building a platform, connect with me here for now. Maybe one day soon I’ll have one of those fancy mailing lists!


There once was a young maiden who took her ink dipped quill to a piece of parchment with the intent of narrating a story…


Okay, so maybe the quill was more like her fingers and maybe the parchment was more like a laptop, but still. At first things went well: ideas200_s were flowing, characters were developing, and the words were clicking away. Somewhere along the way she hit a snag. What happened next? She thought she knew where the story was headed, but she changed directions, she changed details, and then that path to the ending evaporated.


The young maiden decided it was time to do some outlining. She sketched out her characters, and made a map of the path she had taken thus far. Along the way she discovered a new trail the ending she had envisioned.She discovered new characters, so she sketched them out. She detailed their personalities and gave them rich backstories. Better to sort it all out now, she thought. The maiden lined her cork-board with index cards marking not only chapters and the scenes they would entail, but a clear timeline of events.

She had a plan, but as she stared at the blank screen before her, she froze. Nothing came to mind. All her characters were planned out, but they weren’t talking to her anymore.

What happened?

So, this young maiden poses the question, what is the balance between planning and plotting? Was it possible to have too much planning? Too much pantsing? Is there a magical juuuuuust right balance? A Goldilcks, if you will.



Emily is an aspiring author writing about everything from fairytales to serial killers with a few published short stories, but one day… So, for now, until she has a newsletter and all that fancy jazz, connect with her here. ❤

For The Love Of All That’s Writing

For The Love Of All That’s Writing.

Is Chronological All That Logical?

Is Chronological All That Logical?.