How Famous Authors Wrote Best Selling Books?

Writing about...Writing

Today is learning day. Today is the day I want to share with you some of the best advices famous writers have for us so we can grow. If you ever wondered how do they do it, below you can find some answers.

And actually, instead of trying to rephrase their words, I’ll leave the video here so you can see how writers like Stephen King, Anne Rice, J.K. Rowling and others did it.

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When the slate black of night
turns to pale lilac, as the dawn
rolls over the forest floor,
the sky turns once again
into silvery whiteness,
like the glow that emerges
from an eclipse of the moon.

The leafless trees,
thick and tall, stand close together,
rooted in years of layers
of richly composted leaves.
Fog begins to waft through,
revealing the direction of an
elusive breeze.

Turkey hens and Tom’s begin
a high-stepping parade, single file in
their always humorous jerky-walk.
Undeterred by dangling foggy webs,
glistening with morning dew,
pointy turkey beaks lead them
along the trail and up the hill
from the Kennebec river.


Bouts of extended coughing and

hacking accompanied by body wracking

shivers garner chilly looks.

Residents with cold feet,

share cool stares, extending

only cold shoulders,

glances from good books.

Cold stove, cold house, cold truck,

cold everything produces coughing,

cold air, cold feet, cold shoes, cold boots.

Cold hands wipe away deepening

snow, cold fingers chipping ice,

take a moment to wipe a cold,

drippy nose, toot, toot, toots.


DAWN affords clear

visibility beyond glass doors.

Darkness offered driving rain,

wild, whipping wind – howling, flexing,

rattling vinyl siding, walls and windows.

Ancient tall trees suddenly fell in

thunderous foundation-shaking thuds.

Thick branches cracked, split,

moaned in protest, earthy roots exposed.

Acorns popped against windows

like corn popping. Shredded chips

of summer leaves plastered sideways

against all glass surfaces, tick-tick-tick.

Covering the ground, a Matrix

of “spider web” branches

filled with leaves still green,

acorn “victims” pooled beneath.

Cavernous holes in the earth

where trees once grew, now

peeled back, earth-scabs

revealing matted shallow roots

grown over granite slabs just under

the surface of the earth throughout Maine.

Generators hummed throughout

the night. Sounds of rebuilding,

re-ordering the neighborhood.

Weeks fill with the sound of many

Buzzing chainsaws ripping mighty

trees into piles of wood chips.

Stillness descends,

turbulence at last quieted,

Mother Nature mourns

for the loss of precious trees,

stately children of her forest

on the Kennebec.

Curious homeowners scour

a once-thick forest, tripping over

downed branches or dangling roots

ripped from the storm-ravaged earth.

Deer, moose, small animals

sniff the wind, newly alert,

searching for new, secure homes.

Hunter orange soon mingles

with thick layers of yellow,

orange, red and chocolate brown

fall leaves whose tethers ripped

from strong tree branches

in micro-bursts whipping

through one town across the

Kennebec River to the next.


NOTES ON JUNE 10, 2020 by T. Blen Parker

DEW reveals silken webs

engulfed in early morning fog

spun in afternoon sunshine,

woven by Celtic Forest Faeries

exhausted from dancing

in the late strawberry moonlight,

Faerie Fantasies filling their dreams.

Sheer delight, beathtaking sight

Early morning discovery

of glistening quilts by the dozens

filling the greening expanse

of carefree dandelion puffs

and deadly black cap mushrooms

emerging on the lawn.

The paradox of life,





hungry/fully fed,



Rule of Law/chaos


power/sheer helplessness.

We were all energized

Now all are exhausted.

What mix of reality or fantasy

will YOU choose,

going forward from today?