Celebrating Independent Authors
Congrats to Jennifer Don, the readers’ choice in this week’s Indies Unlimited Flash Fiction Challenge.
The winning entry is recognized with a special feature here today and a place in our collection of winners which will be published as an e-book at year end.
Without further ado, here’s the winning story:
Continue reading “Jennifer Don Wins Flash Fiction Challenge”
Maria E. Schneider, come on down! You have won the fabulous prize of a Featured Book Promo! This elegant, hand-crafted promotion includes:
A listing in the Indies Unlimited Bookstore;
A listing in the featured titles sidebar; and
A special post designating your book as our featured book. This post is permalinked and can be added to your digital portfolio.
We at Indies Unlimited would like to thank all the participants. We were moved by many of the lovely comments you all left about why you like Indies Unlimited. It’s always nice to know our efforts are appreciated by others.
DISCLAIMER: Prizes are intended for external use only. No not attempt to ingest prize. Keep prize out of eyes and other bodily openings.Gloves and protective eye gear should be worn when handling prize. If prize causes drowsiness, itching, wheezing, swelling of the ego, messy hair, purple blotches, mood swings, repetitiveness, repetitiveness, or repetitiveness, please call your health insurance provider to arrange a consultation to see if forms should be requisitioned to inquire whether an appointment with a health care provider is needed.
Guest Post
by Ed Griffin
Aristotle said, “Art releases unconscious tensions and purges the soul.”
I volunteered to teach creative writing first in a maximum security prison in Wisconsin where I lived. When we moved to Canada in 1988 I volunteered again, but the prison administrator told me I wasn’t needed because Simon Fraser ran a university program at Matsqui prison. A year later the program was cancelled and I started to teach creative writing.
That was twenty years ago and I made Aristotle’s quote my motto. Writing was an art, and it helped people understand themselves. I remember giving an assignment, “Write about a safe place you knew as a child.” Nothing was more productive than this. “Me and my brother, we had a fort behind the house where we went when ma was looking for us.” “My safe place was under the steps. I hid there when my old man came home drunk.”
If a guy stayed with the class, he got beyond “F…. the system,” though I was glad to see him write that, rather than act it out. Only a few guys in all those years turned into ‘real writers,’ but that didn’t make any difference to me. Continue reading “Writing: A Healing Art”