NASHVILLE, TN – August 12, 2010 – Story Institute, your online and in-print source for imagining, enhancing, and growing stories, is proud to announce the publication of The Manuscript, a novel, by Rebecca Laskowitz. The Manuscript features, Vincent Kraver, author of fifteen bestselling novels who found his niche in … Continue reading
A look at a better story driven character and your connection as a writer… If you are an author in search of readers or have comments about our show, contact us: ramblingverser@storyinstitute.com 615-431-WRIT (9748) This week’s episode was brought to you by Enchanted Travel Tales (www.enchantedtraveltales.com), bringing travel, magic, and … Continue reading
Shift into the Shadows with Marcus DeHart… Quote by John Ashbery Poem from Robert Louis Stevenson – Shadow March Guest Conversation with Marcus DeHart Here is a little about Marcus from his website (http://www.marcusdehart.com/): “Marcus DeHart is a professional writer and designer and the sole owner of Caret Marketing and … Continue reading
Unid was a shaman for an ancient tribe. Unfortunately, the tribe had recently vanished. Right before the disappearance, the skies grew dark and Unid lay napping under a poonta tree. When he woke and strolled back to the village, he noticed very little. However, when he got within sight of … Continue reading
Smithy was also a bit on the heavy side, but he was not too large. He was definitely an over-eater who had hoped at various moments to control his appetite. This was to no avail. Every attempt Smithy made to stop eating caused the desire to grow even more. He … Continue reading
Jason’s and Jennifer’s father was a quiet man. He never yelled or struck his children. He never had to discipline his children. Their mother would simply say, “wait until your father gets home,” and they would calm down long before he ever did arrive home. He would ask about their … Continue reading
Derek had been raised by his father. Once, when Derek was eight, he asked where his mother was. His father simply replied, she is no longer with us, frowned and went about his day. For an eight-year old, this meant that she had died. Not wanting to know how or … Continue reading
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