Fiction Writing

Fiction writing is a first love for many bloggers.

It certainly was mine.

fiction writing

Fiction Writing

I was cleaning out my computer the other day and came across an old file full of my fiction writing. Some files were the product of me having fun, practicing for my dreamed of future life. Most were writing assignments completed for one of the many fiction writing classes I took as a youngster. I think the one below was written in the late 1980’s as part of a Fiction Writing class I took while living in California but I really don’t recall when it was written or why.

It jumped out at me not because it’s a great example of fiction writing but, rather, because it’s so different than the copy I wrote during my working career. It reminded me of young Steve. He was naive. I can’t recall the last time I had a storybook thought but this fiction writing sample brings back many of those cluttered thoughts from youth when life was a jumble but full of promise.

When is the last time you wrote fiction just for fun?

Below is something I wrote decades ago. I can’t tell you how much fun it was to read it again.

1980+/- Fiction Writing Homework Assignment:

The forest roiled with anger. The young trees swayed and the old trees stood erect in defiance. The cold rain hit hard against the ground. The wind howled and the dead leaves crackled as they skipped across the frozen earth. In the distance, the gray skies turned black as night.

Shania moaned in distress.

Jason’s horse stirred beneath him. He pulled the reins tight to steady his steed. His head moved from side to side, his eyes wide and alert. “What does it mean?” he asked.

Tonya couldn’t answer. She was shaking badly, as badly as the forest. She reached out to touch Shania and recoiled as if pained. Tonya’s face showed suffering. “I don’t know.” Weeping, she collapsed to the ground.

“Tell me!” Jason commanded sharply, regretting it instantly. His tone made the girl howl like the wind. But he was a cavalry soldier, used to suffering, so the wailing angered him.

Shania continued to moan, tears streamed down her haggard, cracked, face.

Jason dismounted quickly, removed his heavy coat and wrapped it around Tonya. “Does that help?” he asked softly.

She nodded. “Thank you.”

“Is it a storm?” he asked. She shook her head. Jason tried to think. “Are they returning?”

“Worse! I’ve never felt such madness from the forest. The smell of death is everywhere. Somewhere people are dying violently. I feel it.” Tonya looked up at her mother. “Shania feels it too. We will die soon.”

The battle toughened young man stood erect and widened his stance. He withdrew his sword and his pistol. “We will die for sure my love, but not soon and not here.”

Writing is hard work but it’s also supposed to be fun.

If what you’re writing during your day-job isn’t giving you pleasure but happens pay the bills, maybe it’s time to do a little fiction writing in your spare time. Even writing for 15- or 30-minutes is fun when you enjoy the topic. So find some time and start writing fiction, it’s fun.

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