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Is the phrase "Once upon a time..."
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Monthly Writing Prompt
For this month's writing prompt write a scene using the following sentence to start;

The streets were deserted. Where was everyone? Where had they all gone?

Writing Tip
Our monthly writing tips are written by our very own TerishD. You can read more in Terish's Blog located in "The Abstractions" area of the forum.

Look Back

When not able to write ahead, it helps to look back. In my case I had written a paragraph ahead of the story. What I needed to do was add a section of exposition (talking) presenting some facts. In going back, I realized that I could insert a section where a 'tour' of the surroundings could be done. This allowed for character interaction, story development, and other things that enabled me to present the facts in an entertaining manner.

One should not face a writer's block with the mentality of bursting through it. I have found in my own experience that a writer's block is usually due to my mind indicating that it has a problem in 'channeling' the story. One reason might be a re-imagining of certain story points. Another reason however is that there is a problem in where you are at in the story, so you need to look back and find out the problem with the 'journey' that prevents the tale from advancing.

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 oslo sonnet

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Number of posts : 2306
Age : 79
Location : portugal
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Registration date : 2008-08-13

PostSubject: oslo sonnet   July 4th 2016, 5:24 am

Oslo Sonnet
Today I made a vegetarian meal it was not any good, but we ate it, after all, it was healthy and I remembered the time when I had the idea of becoming a vegetarian cook or chef as it is called now got an interview in Oslo and took the night train. Third class and the open carriage was full; luckily I had a blanket with me I used it as the tent so I didn`t have to talk to anyone. 
It was a seven-hour journey it was so boring I was ready to get up a scream but somehow fell into a trance. We arrived at eight the station café was open I had a coffee and fell asleep. A man in uniform woke me and told me to leave this was not rest- room for vagabonds.    Oslo was entirely grey, building, people, the road it was as colours had fled to a tropical paradise and cold coconut milk first thing in the morning

By now I had lost all interest in the vegetarian thing and ate eggs and plenty of bacon took the train home but in a first class compartment. At home, there was a cable for me a job on a ship a week later I was in Jamaica where the colours in Oslo also had gone. I met a girl we danced to the music from jukebox something about a blanket on the ground and the night in Jamaica was blue silk, the moon was full and golden.
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