Colin Wright agrees to be our KEYNOTE

 

Show Me Writers: Masterclass
Conference 2015

Afternoon Keynote:   Colin Wright

colin_wright head 15The Asymmetric Author

An introduction to the modern publishing ecosystem and how to approach it, the role of experimentation and technology in reaching one’s audience, and the rise of the authorpreneur.

 See his work at  http://colin.io/

Colin_Wright_active 15BIO   Colin Wright is a 30-year-old author, entrepreneur, and full-time traveler.

For over six years he’s moved to a new country every four months based on the votes of his readers. He supports his travel habit by writing and selling books through a publishing company he co-founded, Asymmetrical Press.

His blog, Exile Lifestyle, brings in over two millions readers a year, and he’s written over thirty books in genres ranging from science fiction to philosophy, short fiction collections about death to compilations of travel stories from his time on the road.

Colin has given two TEDx talks, has keynoted for major tech industry events, regularly speaks about intentional and nonstandard lifestyle choices at conferences and schools worldwide, and goes on book tours more often than any sane person would.

Colin grew up in Columbia, Missouri, and went to school at Missouri State University in Springfield.

his  blog:     http://exilelifestyle.com
publishing company:     http://asymmetrical.co

Social media links:

Twitter: http://instagram.com/colinismyname
Instagram: http://instagram.com/colinismyname
Facebook: http://facebook.com/colinwright

Jim Coffman, author, tries SHOW not TELL

JONI IS REALLY SAD

        Joni trips on the step as she enters Murdock Funeral Home.   She passes Michael Murdock who flashes her a large plastic smile.   Joni does not respond.
        She sees the layout: the casket with Robert is straight ahead, a cluster of people—presumably the family—stands past the casket, and a line is queued to view the body.   Joni joins the line to wait her turn.   Two people turn toward her.   Their expressions, like Joni’s, are blank.

Continue reading “Jim Coffman, author, tries SHOW not TELL”

Distinguised literary author, Marlene Lee, tries her hand at Show not Tell

 

Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha!

“Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha!” said Joni, laughing loudly enough to be heard by the woman and man sitting on a sofa at the far end of the room. “Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha!”  The child smiled broadly so that, when she stopped laughing, they would still notice how happy she was.

Twenty or more children stood in rows on a raised platform at the east end of a long room.  When the front row had undergone adequate scrutiny, as indicated by nods from the woman and man on the sofa, three teachers stepped up onto the stage and directed the children in the front row to return to the back while the second row stepped forward. Wave upon wave, the rows of children rhythmically replaced themselves.

Continue reading “Distinguised literary author, Marlene Lee, tries her hand at Show not Tell”

Emerging author Frank Montagnino delights us with his version of Show and Tell

“If Momma ain’t happy….”

(A really short story by Frank Montagnino)

It was a bleak day; a gray day, the kind of day that if you didn’t have to go to work you’d just pull up the covers and stay in bed.   But you wouldn’t enjoy that either, Joni thought.

She looked out the grimy window of her dreary room at the barren harvested field beyond the motel’s parking lot.  “Empty,” she  muttered to herself.  As empty as her life since Roger had pulled up stakes and left her all alone on the outskirts of this Godforsaken,  down-at-the-heels farm town.

Continue reading “Emerging author Frank Montagnino delights us with his version of Show and Tell”

Urban Fantasy Author, Liz Schulte gives an example of “Show not Tell”

Urban Fantasy Author, Liz Schulte is our first entry in our “Show not Tell” Challenge.  What was the challenge?  Show this:  “Joanie/Joni is really sad.”

Untitled

The curtains were pulled tight and the wood blinds closed. There was still too much light. Joanie’s feet shuffled across the bedroom floor pushing cold, wet tissues out of the way. With a sniffle, she wiped beneath her nose and knocked away another errant tear with the back of her hand—there seemed to be no end to them. No matter what she did, she couldn’t piece herself back together.

She sank into bed, pulling the plush, warm cover over her head. Finally it was dark enough to remember or forget, but she hadn’t made up her mind which one she’d do yet. Both choices were equally devastating. A shaky breath escaped her tight chest as a new round of tears spilled down her cheeks. 

 She wasn’t just bent, she was broken.