Writing Exercise

The Day My Writing Practice Took a Slight Detour
I feel fortunate in life to live just a couple of blocks up from the beach. The beach is my happy place. Some days, and even more so when the weather is beautiful, I will push myself to take a slow walk down and sit and practise some of my writing exercises. And when I say: push myself, I’m embarrassed this may come across as taking where I live for granted or even laziness. But truthfully, it’s more about my procrastination.
By Chantal Christie Weissabout a month ago in Writers
The Conversation. Top Story - January 2026.
“I’m sorry to disturb you, AllMother.” “It is no disturbance to see you again; I sensed you down the hall. Come in, fear not, sit – and speak to me of what’s on your mind, my son.”
By David Muñozabout a month ago in Writers
A Very Short Story With One Syllable Words Only
Anne Bernays and Pamela Painter — What If? Writing Exercise for Fiction Writers prompts The Exercise — Write a short story using words of only one syllable. The Objective - To make you conscious of word choice
By Denise E Lindquistabout a month ago in Writers
The Last Vacation at the Beach
I didn’t know it was going to be my last vacation at the beach. That’s the strange thing about endings—they rarely announce themselves. They arrive disguised as ordinary days, warm and harmless, like sunlight on your face when you step out of the car and breathe in salt without thinking twice.
By Imran Ali Shahabout a month ago in Writers
Immortality in Hell
I started 2026 with a new challenge, inspired by the success of a well-received challenge on Elon Musk, the alien I hosted at the end of 2025.
By Lana V Lynxabout a month ago in Writers
Copywriter Meaning, Responsibilities, Skills & How to Become One in 2026
In 2026, the word copywriter carries more weight than ever before. What once referred mainly to someone who wrote advertisements has evolved into a profession that sits at the center of business growth, digital influence, and brand trust. In a world saturated with content, copywriters are no longer just writers; they are strategic communicators who shape how people think, feel, and act.
By Sathish Kumar about a month ago in Writers
Finding Adjectives and Adverbs
Anne Bernays and Pamela Painter — What If? Writing Exercise for Fiction Writers prompts The Exercise — Underline and highlight all adverbs and italicize and highlight adjectives in a published story and decide which ones work. Then, exchange all weak adverbs and adjectives for strong ones of your own. Consider omitting them altogether. The Objective - To be alert to the power - and the weakness - of these verbal spices. To avoid them except when they can add something you really need
By Denise E Lindquistabout a month ago in Writers
Why Students Are Turning to a Humanizer AI Instead of Relying on AI Alone
Why Students Are Reconsidering AI-Only Writing in Academic Work Artificial intelligence tools have become deeply embedded in student workflows. From outlining essays to organizing research notes, AI has changed how students approach assignments. However, a noticeable shift is taking place in academic environments. Students who rely exclusively on AI-generated writing are increasingly encountering issues related to grading, feedback, and academic credibility.
By Abbasi Publisherabout a month ago in Writers
Why I Write. Content Warning.
Why do I write? There weren’t enough stories on page and screen that I liked, so I wrote my own. The first time I saw Bride of Chucky I was appalled because they ruined that character. It went against everything that series had been for years prior to 1998. None of the three previous films had any sex scenes. This one did. The other three made me give a shit about the protagonists. I did not give two hits about Jade and Jesse. Chucky was made to look like a goof instead of the foul mouthed and psychotic killer we all knew and loved. The point of this article was to answer the question: why do I write? I write the stories I want to see more of and written the way I want to see stories written.
By DJ Robbinsabout a month ago in Writers
E Ala Mai!
My arm flails in the direction of the alarm. Who knew a sound could be obnoxious. With a swipe of my thumb, it was snoozed. My head droops back into the coolness and comfort of the silk covered pillow. Wait, did the clock say 6:45 am? The first step out of bed is always the hardest. My toes wiggle into the carpet as I push myself up. Now at the doorway, I glance into the hall. The keiki are still asleep, I sigh with relief. Mm, some alone time. A rarity for any mom. Turning into the bathroom I feel along the small textured bumps of the wall. The lights flicker on. My eyes blink on cue. Reaching for the faucet, I mentally prepare for the shock. My hands join together in a cup shape, the cold-water pouring in. The anticipation was right. I shook at the jolting sensation as the drops trickled down my face. I head towards the kitchen. In a quiet moment of gratitude to whoever invented the Keurig I savor the roast scent as the coffee droplets fill my cup. It read, “But, first coffee,” as if it was personally preaching to me. Black coffee, with a shot of espresso. The network of nerves in my body start to buzz. I call out to the keiki, my voice echoing down the hall like the first ripple of a wave, e ala mai!
By Keola about a month ago in Writers
Conciseness and confidence in writing
I have been reorganizing a manuscript that has been rejected several times. Some of the essays that were meant to make the structure more complete can no longer be written because too much time has passed. To relieve my anxiety, I can only write other pieces, but the pain cannot truly be concealed.
By Jicky Liuabout a month ago in Writers
The Descendant of a Lioness
Haole kou lined the sidewalk. Each step shaded, with an occasional beam of sunlight piercing through the branches. I sat there on the bench, book in hand. Leaves gently rustled in the kona breeze. I inhaled, relishing this serene moment. Anticipating what would unfold in Chapter 35, I opened the book. I read about Homa being preyed upon by the sergeant. My chest tightened. There she was, confined by cement. Her screams, unheard by anyone who could help. Before this moment, she had dreams of becoming a judge.
By Keola about a month ago in Writers