What is indie publishing?

What is indie publishing?

Pro Writing Aid

Hullo Writers and Readers - I have come across great text editing software to improve my writing and I just had to share. It's called Pro Writing Aid. There is a Free version and also a Premium version. I have the Premium version.

The program is amazing and makes critiquing a lot easier, especially in larger pieces of writing where you think you're going cross-eyed reading the text for errors. The program first analyses your work and then gives you a summary. This summary contains an Overused Words Report, Cliches & Redundancies Report, Sentence Length Variation, Sticky Sentences Report and several other reports that are helpful.

Why not check out the Free version. Here is the link below

http://prowritingaid.com/free-editing-software.aspx#

Exercise of Characterisation

Hi! Readers, I think this is an excellent website.
http://www.writersworkshop.co.uk/character.html

Terror

I was only nine years old when my parents moved our family to a small farm in country Victoria. I have two brothers and a sister who like me, were looking forward to an idealistic existence in the country. I looked forward to having animals. Something we had never had in the city.

We'd been at the farm about a year and my brothers and sister and I loved the country. The birdsong in the morning, the rooster crowing, cows mooing and the freedom to run wherever we wanted fulfilled our dreams of country life. People say its isolated in the country, but I never thought so. The people from neighbouring farms were friendly always dropping in for a cup of tea and a chat. My mother had never entertained so much in all her life.

My brothers had made friends at school with Max and Johnny. Well Max and Johnny were coming over at the weekend to watch a movie at our house. “Nightmare on Elm Street”. For those of you who are not movie goers. This is one creepy movie. Freddie Kruger is the most evil man you would ever not wish to meet on a dark night. At the time, I had never seen the movie and begged my mother to let me stay up with the big boys to watch it.

Mum, being a good mother said, “No, you can't Jack. You'll have bad dreams and I'll never get any sleep. Your sister has to go to bed and you can too my boy.”

Well I wheedled and cajoled her into submission. I can be very determined when I want to be.

“Alright,” she said at last giving in out of frustration and worn out by my nagging.

“Whoopee!,” I yelled.

We all sat in the dark in the living room. The television casting eery shadows around the room. We weren't far into the movie when I knew I was going to have nightmares.

“Sure you don't want to go to bed?” said by biggest brother Billy. “Sure it's not too scary for you?”

The other boys snickered.

“It's okay,” I said my voice quivering.

I sat boggle eyed right through the movie and when it was finished I was too scared to go outside to the dunny or even to pee outside the kitchen door onto the veggie garden. I just went to bed.

I woke in the middle of the night busting for a pee. I hopped out of the bed and peered under it.

“Darn,” I muttered. Mum had forgotten to put the pot under the bed. I climbed back into bed and lay there for about ten minutes. It was becoming unbearable. I just had to get up and go outside to the loo. The kitchen door creaked as I opened it setting the mood like icing on a cake. It was pitch black outside and the wind was blowing. I heard the sound of an owl hooting somewhere close by. There was a whirr of wings over head. The safety of the enclosed dunny seemed more appealing than standing vulnerable peeing in the vegetable patch so I tip-toed over the wet grass my heart in my mouth hoping I would not disturb any boogy men who might be lurking around behind the dunny. When I had nearly reached it I ran like hell, opened the door, slammed it shut and stood there. The relief was enormous. I was about to make a dash back to our house, when I heard a rustling sound, then some thuds. I was rooted to the spot. Could it be Freddie Kruger? I never gave God a thought most of the time, but I did then.

“Please God,” I prayed, “please, please save me from this monster.”

My heart raced a million miles an hour. I wanted to pee again, but with extreme effort put that thought out of my mind. I stood there breathing heavily. I was hot all over. My hands were clammy. I felt like I didn't have any legs, that concrete stumps were holding me up instead.

I waited another minute. There were those noises again, a thud and the rustling of something. I slowly opened the dunny door a crack. Oh gosh, something dark and monstrous was moving by the old broken fence over on the other side of the back-yard.

It was Freddie Kruger coming to get me. I just knew it! I'll have to run I thought and terrified I bolted towards the kitchen door. Pyjama pants falling down around my knees, I tripped up the back stairs into the arms of my mother.

“What in the hell do you think you're doing Jack,” she cried and turned the back porch light on.

Standing in the long grass, blinking in the bright light, her tailing thudding to and fro against the fence was Betsy our house cow calmly chewing her cud.