Calm Writer Novels & Stories

or the best I can. I could press the button and get out of here if I really wanted to, Zane would be down here so fast it would give me whiplash, but I’m not going to give the king of the castle of dark and creepy things the satisfaction of watching me crumble again. I don’t know when I feel asleep but when I wake up its to see Calder leaning against the cell wall, feet crossed at the ankle, muscular arms crossed of his brood chest and his eyes train ed on me.

"Just for a week. Just to see if the quiet helps." Celeste says yes. --- The writer arrives in October. She's younger than most of the residents, early thirties, with dark hair and nervous hands. She spends the first three days walking the beach, not writing, just being. Celeste doesn't push. Just hold space. On the fourth day, the writer writes. Twenty pages. A breakthrough. "Thank you," she says. "Thank yourself." "For what?" "For showing up." --- Winter is coming. Sofia is nine now — wiser, taller, more herself. She reads before bed, chapter books with small print, disappearing into worlds of magic and adventure.

“Did any personal experiences shape the themes?” A careful pause. “Every writer borrows from emotion,” I replied. “Pain, joy, confusion, longing. You may not recreate events exactly, but the feelings are always real.” She smiled at that, clearly pleased. She flipped to another card. “Your writing process is something many readers are curious about. Walk us through a typical writing day for you.” I shifted, thinking. “There’s nothing glamorous about it,” I said with a soft laugh. “I wake early. Very early. Before the world becomes loud. That silence helps me think clearly.”

I commented, and Caesar just responded with a hum. After a few moments of silence, Caesar replied, "You can play some music." My head shook. "I prefer the silence." I've grown to prefer calm and quiet since becoming a writer. It's likely that I started using it in my daily life because that's what I needed whenever I had to write. I don't mind the noise, but I love it when it's quiet. "I'll keep quiet for the rest of the drive then," Caesar remarked. I cracked a smile. "But I don't mind having a conversation with you."

Rejena The Dalon Sorrin has my hand in his, shaking it and pretending to be someone else. Fine, I can play along. Instead of giving him my own name, I give him my pen name. Technically, I am not completely lying about who I am. I am Jane Carter, but only on the cover of books that can only be viewed on apps at the moment, but I am working on getting something on paper, getting it out there for the world to see. That is why I brought my typewriter that I was gifted by someone that always believed in me more than I ever believed in myself, but haven’t truly taken the time to actually write on. I am hoping that if I write on the typewriter, I won’t be able to post the books online again and I c

My words came off as worrying as Jacq, turned to me arched brows. “But i’ll scale through. I went to rehab and they said to find something that replaces those emotions and i have Jade even if it isn’t exactly healthy and she could leave anytime. But i also have writing. It calms me, a lot” I looked back at her with a sigh. “Where have you gotten after that end?” Jacq asked and i scoffed. “Barely a chapter mote” I forced a laughter as she took my hands softly. “You can write, about me, about us and about Harry. Everything, the bitter and the sweet, the good and the bad and the ugly. And i was scared that each time i’d have to remember Wesley at the sight of your book but it’s sometimes a good

 ~AUTHOR'S POV~

About the Author Acky Loowa is a corporate trainer, a freelance host, a visionary and a happy go lucky underrated writer in Nueva Ecija, Philippines, who writes to express and not to impress. He is a simple guy who has a big dream and wants to inspire individuals through his work. Year 2020 when he won in a one shot writing contest with his story “GARAPON: Tapayan ng mga Puso” which caused him to take writing seriously. He can do writes all kind of genre but tragic story is his first love.

Carrie spoke with so much enthusiasm, she has been trying her best to cheer me up over these past seven weeks. I began writing a year ago, it’s always been my true passion although I never shared this with anyone other than Carrie, she was the only one who knew about my writing and the one who sent my novel out for publishing without my knowledge so I guess I have her to thank for my publishing offer. This morning I received an email from a publishing company who agreed to publish my novel. I have to go to London this weekend for a meeting with the publisher, I’m not sure how everything happens but I’m sure they will explain it to me when I get there.

WHO IS A WRITER[Wikipedia] A writer is a person who uses written words in different writing styles and techniques to communicate ideas. Writers produce different forms of literary art and creative writing such as novels, short stories, books, poetry, travelogues, plays, screenplays, teleplays, songs, and essays as well as other reports and news articles that may be of interest to the general public. Writers' texts are published across a wide range of media. Skilled writers who are able to use language to express ideas well, often contribute significantly to the cultural content of a society.