Dale Angel: Online Class

Today we have the first of a series from Writers Forum member Dale Angel. Dale has been a regular contributor to Writers Forum newsletters for years, and her readings at our semi-annual Read Around are always some of the most popular. I plan to run a Dale Angel story every Friday, at least through Labor Day. Enjoy!

Geo.


 

Online Class

by

Dale Angel

I’m taking an online class. The subjects are varied and useful for everyday life. The teacher is well-known, educated and comes with credentials and a title. The instructor’s name is Judge Judy.

I personally learned how to dress for the work environment. You need a white lace collar. It made me realize I need the services of the physical landscaping skills of her surgeon. She looks sixteen and last class she showed up with blond hair, the necessary equipment for the job.

She shows us the value of personal worth by refusing to get involved in domestic affairs…what she calls, “playing house with benefits”. She will not divide up the items fought over like the plaintiff’s toothbrush holder and running shoes or the defendant’s rims off her car. She will not unmingle their toys. She’s not using up her life or education over trivias, especially when both want a refund and compensation on their bad investment. We can all learn something from this.

She’s very astute in unraveling who threw the first punch…and she can identify the keys of rejected lovers who used them to damage the cars belonging to the party of the first part. Her work ethics are so creative when one’s spouse sues, and the problem is from the unemployment that brought it about, her advice is ”just gather cans and hire your own attorney”.

She’s fair. She is a master at identifying manufactured disabilities that her bailiff pays his taxes to support so the disabled party has an income…while surfing. The case of the women who sued for back injury and pain and suffering was enlightening. Judge Judy told her to try climbing down off those shoes, see if that helps…next!

Her practical questions are so skilled you see people tattling on themselves. She is very good to youths who have coping problems, who she says, “lie when their mouths are moving”. She is so kind, she never deprives them of consequences. It shows a great deal of experience in this area. I need to know more about things like this, but at present, I’m underqualified. Never do business without defensive receipts-you will need them for decades because someone may come out of the woodwork.

Save all receipts. Good to know.


Writers Forum is open to submissions for the blog or the newsletter. Please submit copy to the editor at writersforumeditor@gmail.com . Electronic submissions only. Microsoft Word format, with the .docx file extension, is preferred but any compatible format is acceptable. The staff reserves the right to perform minor copy editing in the interest of the website’s style and space.

Type of Material and Guidelines for e-newsletter and Website Submission: 1.) Your articles on the art or craft of writing. 2.) Essays on subjects of interest to writers. (200 words can be quoted without permission but with attribution.) 3.) Book or author reviews. 4.) Letters to the Editor or Webmaster. 5.) Information on upcoming events, local or not. 6.) Photos of events. 7.) Advertise your classes or private events. 8.) Short fiction 9.) Poetry

Queen’s Letter: If I have to come over there…!

Today we have more words from Writers Forum President and Queen Laura Hernandez. With the COVID-19 numbers back on the rise in California, and with the lack of masks we see around town, it looks like this is going to be a longer ride than we hoped. Laura has some pointers for staying active with your writing as we wait it out.

One thing you can do is submit work to post at this blog! I can only post material that I have. If I don’t have it, I can’t post it. The more material I receive, the more regularly I can post, and the more variety we can have. Submission guidelines are always at the bottom of each post. Submissions from non-Writers Forum members will be considered.

Geo.


If I have to come over there…!

Welp, we did it! We passed up all the other states except New York (it’s always a struggle to be 2nd Best to Them, isn’t it?!).  We in CA are the Second Most Infected With Chingona, in the whole country!  And it’s not because of “increased testing.”  It’s because we are Stubborn, Bored and Selfish!  Yay!

Most of the newly infected in Shasta County (we are up to 86 as I write this, yay!) are attributed by contact tracing to a Family Gathering and another Graduation Party!  Yay!  And yes, there are people who infected each other at those Very Necessary Parties. But then they all went to the store. On different days. Your store? My store? My drug store? My liquor store? (This is no time to judge me.)

Wearing masks is not a matter of opinion, thank you Governor, it is a matter of State Mandate. You know, the force of law.

And did you see the young people who have erected card tables and petitions at the grocery stores to recall the governor over MASKS?!  Bless their hearts.

I’m sure it wasn’t any of you who participated in these Very Necessary Parties.  But we are going to have to police ourselves (by example) and exert some peer pressure with a Parental Glare that says, “Don’t Make Me Come Over There!” to those who are not wearing masks. It is the only thing we have.

And I know, I’m tired (and sweaty) trying to tell people to do this. At work, I have a sign, 8 ½ X 11, on yellow paper, in a font that is as big as your face on my door, that says, “You must wear a mask to enter the Law Li-berry.” And STILL there are people who bang in the door without one.  No shirt, no shoes, no mask, no service. No shit.

Yes, we were good, we behaved. For a while. And now people are done. I see that. I also see the rate of infection climbing like it hasn’t before. Seven thousand. In. One. Day. Yay.

Please stay the ‘eff at home when you don’t have to get food. Or drugs. Or liquor. (I can see your face, stop it.)

I’m getting good at shopping online for stuff I now know I can’t fetch because there are people without masks in line ahead of me at the freakin’ store. They yell at cashiers because they want to be free to infect.  Did you know Old Navy will take the stuff you ordered online but maybe you have to return for free and you can take your bag to a less-crowded place like Mail Boxes, Etc. instead of the Post Office, to return before 5:00 (except they are closed on Sat/Sun.)?  Home Depot delivers shit right to your door, too (except not that Stump Remover stuff, I guess because of that you-can-light-a-match to accelerate the removal part of the instructions?). You can even get a box of blue-paper disposable masks (30 of them!) delivered right to your door (Amazon, free delivery, Yay!). And yes, wear them outside, too. You are walking right behind someone’s Chingona Cloud of Conversation.

The good news is that we still have a lot of hospital beds available!  Yay!  We might need them. Or not. I don’t have all the information I need. The Redding Record Searchlight is pretty much over this whole pandemic thing, too.  They no longer show a daily count from the health department for free online, like they did every day last week. Over it. And yet, many, many more cases. Go figure. Listen to the radio, like NPR 88.9 or 97.1 for Redding. There’s a California Report everyday at about 9:00 am, that is not just for infection reportage. On Thursdays there is a Selected Shorts program at 8:00-9:00pm where professional actors you’ve heard of, read short stories on random topics in front of live people somewhere. It’s pretty fun!

Try and find something funner to do indoors. Did you try Udemy for writing and editing yet? Do it now. You can play the classes over and over and take notes or just make sock puppets to interact with them! Maybe you thought we’d be out of the woods (I live in the woods, so you know, metaphor) by now and online learning wouldn’t be something we’d have to resort to.  We have to resort to. It’s funner than you think. There’s another $10 sale on now!

I did those and also hired a Content Editor through Reedsy, who gave me a 16-page evaluation for my first novel, (I sent her the whole damn thing!) and an evaluation on my query letter which gets me that much closer to publication!  Yay! I know I‘ve told you this before, but you might be able to hear me now. On Reedsy.com, you can find an editor, evaluate their credentials separately by just Googling their name, and interact online with them to negotiate a price (you make payments to Linked In) to get the kind of professional assessment you need to take your writing to the next professional level.  I love my critique group partners, but we all need experts in the publishing world, too.  There are hundreds of editors for different needs to choose from, and you can evaluate 5 at a time, like an auction you control, to make them jump to be your line or content editor for your very own manuscript! My content editor lives in Ireland (although her business in based in Florida), and worked for one of the Big Five publishing houses before going on her own. She gave me details and Big Picture ways to improve this novel and my others that was specific and understandable.  She is a fan and we will work together to get me published. I love her, get your own.

You know how hard it’s been to concentrate because of all the Pandemic News creeping us out? That’s the part we have to get over. Force yourself to concentrate, like it says on the orange juice carton. (My column, my jokes.) Write something that isn’t about germs, disease and infection. I dare ya.

Buy an exercise course online to keep you in the Fun Zone! If your internet is spotty at home, buy an exercise CD/DVD and have it delivered to your house (Target, Amazon, not Home Depot!)!  Get some extra batteries for your new, portable CD player (you can order that online from Target and they will deliver to your house!! Like magic!). I know, it’s money.  But we are going to have to spend a little in ways we didn’t think we’d need to before…all this. Get a DVD about Yoga!  I hate Yoga. It just forces me to see how neglectful I am with vacuuming.  And dusting. And spider de-webbing.  And how I’ve never liked that blue book… there. But that’s just me (and I can still see your face).  This will also be good prep for PG&EffingE’s planned plug-pulling for fire prevention this summer, too. Be sure to include a mask in your Go Bag in case we need to leave to let firefighters work.

Yes, we’re exhausted. Buck up. Thought the Not-So-Great-Depression was hard? Yep, nope. And it’s not so bad at home. At least there, I don’t have to wear my mask to go to the bathroom down the hall. Like I do at work. Yay.


Writers Forum is open to submissions for the blog or the newsletter. Please submit copy to the editor at writersforumeditor@gmail.com . Electronic submissions only. Microsoft Word format, with the .docx file extension, is preferred but any compatible format is acceptable. The staff reserves the right to perform minor copy editing in the interest of the website’s style and space.

Type of Material and Guidelines for e-newsletter and Website Submission: 1.) Your articles on the art or craft of writing. 2.) Essays on subjects of interest to writers. (200 words can be quoted without permission but with attribution.) 3.) Book or author reviews. 4.) Letters to the Editor or Webmaster. 5.) Information on upcoming events, local or not. 6.) Photos of events. 7.) Advertise your classes or private events. 8.) Short fiction. 9.) Poetry.

IN MEMORIUM: CHLOE RYAN WINSTON

Chloe Winston signing a book

The Writers Forum Board has learned of the recent passing of our long-time member, Chloe Winston, who would have celebrated her ninetieth birthday this December. Her family indicates she requested no memorial service; however, we are pleased to have this opportunity to honor her memory.

Many of us remember her enthusiasm for life and for writing, and for her generous help in critique groups. Until recently, she attended our regular monthly meetings and sometimes participated as a presenter. Always willing to lend a hand, she volunteered at the Redding Library and at All Saints Episcopal Church. Before moving to Redding from Ashland, she was a regular volunteer at the Oregon Shakespeare Festival.

Never one to let age stand in her way, Chloe dedicated the past few years of her writing life to her mystery/espionage series featuring Briana Fraser, a former courier for a US spy agency. Each book took place in a different exotic location, all of them places where Chloe had actually traveled. She enjoyed having the satisfaction of seeing her series published.

Chloe was born on a ranch in eastern Oregon, graduated from Marylhurst University, and earned a master’s degree at Idaho State University. She had lived in Ashland, Oregon, which is featured in her writing, as well as Mexico, and had traveled extensively to fifty-eight countries. As a travel writer, Chloe contributed to several publications including The Los Angeles Times, International Travel News, and Mature Lifestyles. She had been a cruise destination lecturer as well as a high school teacher, counselor, and administrator.

Toward the end of her life, this lovely-hearted person continued to regularly put to use not only her degree in Guidance and Counselling, but also her natural gift in that area, and would counsel people in the residence where she lived and others who were a regular part of her life.

You can remember Chloe by clicking on one of these links, to see her writing legacy.

Chloe’s Facebook author page

Chloe’s Amazon author page

Chloe’s author page with her publisher


Writers Forum is open to submissions for the blog or the newsletter. Please submit copy to the editor at writersforumeditor@gmail.com . Electronic submissions only. Microsoft Word format, with the .docx file extension, is preferred but any compatible format is acceptable. The staff reserves the right to perform minor copy editing in the interest of the website’s style and space.

Type of Material and Guidelines for e-newsletter and Website Submission: 1.) Your articles on the art or craft of writing. 2.) Essays on subjects of interest to writers. (200 words can be quoted without permission but with attribution.) 3.) Book or author reviews. 4.) Letters to the Editor or Webmaster. 5.) Information on upcoming events, local or not. 6.) Photos of events. 7.) Advertise your classes or private events.

Short Story Contest Entry: Election Day

Silhouette of hand dropping ballot into box

Today we have another entry received for the Writers Forum 2020 Short Story Contest.

Since the contest judges are supposed to be judging the entries without knowing who wrote them, the author’s names will be withheld until after the winner selection. After the winners have been chosen, all authors will be identified, and the top three stories will be re-posted. The contest is only open to Writers Forum members. Click here for the complete contest rules.

There is still plenty of time for Writers Forum members to submit your own short stories. All submissions will be posted to the website and the Facebook page, and will also be considered submissions to the Writers Forum anthology, River’s Edge, to be published at the end of the year.


Election Day

     Stacey stood in the voting booth staring at the names on the ballot in front of her.  She did not like any of them.  She had turned eighteen in March, had graduated from high school in May, and had spent six months attempting to enlighten herself about political issues.  Initially she had favored Senator Bernie Sanders but the super delegates from the Democratic Party had made certain he would not win the nomination.  Super delegates?  She did not understand why a political party would even want or need them.

Stacey had waited in line for nearly an hour to cast her vote, a line which had seemed to grow behind her.  Others were still waiting in the drizzle outside.  She completed the rest of the ballot first and then returned to the choices for President.  Donald Trump had never held a public office of any kind.  Stacey felt he was unqualified.  She could not in good conscience vote for a Republican candidate anyway.  She had learned that since 1970 executive compensation in this country had skyrocketed while wages, when adjusted for inflation, had flatlined.  Stacey believed that the middle class was being hollowed out.  She could not understand why any working person would still support the Republican Party.  A Canadian economist had recently called American capitalism a system of exploitation – the exploitation of labor and resources.  Stacey believed there was some truth in that.

After Bernie, Hillary Clinton had been her second choice until Wikileaks had exposed her a couple weeks earlier.  Hillary had been paid over six hundred thousand dollars to give three speeches to the banking industry.  Throughout the campaign she had adamantly refused to disclose the texts of those speeches, though other candidates had urged her to do so.  Finally, Wikileaks released them.  In those speeches Hillary told the bankers they should be allowed to police themselves and that she thought it was okay for a politician to state one view publicly on an issue but feel differently in private about that same issue.  What?  Stacey’s father had lost his job back in 2008 due to the worldwide recession caused by mortgage fraud.  Police themselves?  Stacey opposed that idea strongly.

Stacey had seen Dr. Jill Stein of the Green Party interviewed twice on television and had liked her message.  Though Stacey did not wish to throw her first vote away on a long-shot candidate, she quickly punched a hole in the ballot next to Jill Stein’s name.  She was not thrilled about it but that was her choice.

Stacey exited the Veterans of Foreign Wars building and found her boyfriend Carlos waiting in the parking lot.  He suggested they celebrate their first vote with a cup of hot chocolate and maybe a slice of apple pie.  Stacey did not feel like celebrating but she did not want to dampen Carlos’s sudden burst of patriotism so she agreed.  When they walked into Sammy’s Diner a couple miles down the road, Stacey was surprised to see a few people wearing those bright red Make America Great Again baseball caps.  Stacey could not even begin to understand the support for Trump.  Carlos told one of them that America’s greatness was not in the past, or the present, but in what it can become – repeating a line they had heard on Real Time With Bill Maher.  A guy in a red hat turned around and flipped them the bird on his way out the front door.

They were seated in a booth and a waitress told them the hot chocolate was free if they could produce a stub showing they had voted.  They dug around and each produced one and the waitress laughed out loud.  She had thought they looked too young to vote.  A couple of girls they remembered from school approached their booth and Carlos invited them to sit down for a minute.

“Carlos…  Stacey…  Haven’t seen you two in a long time,” Rebecca, a former classmate, said.  “Did you to just come from the polling station?”

“We did.  How are you doing, Rebecca?” Stacey asked.

“Good, I guess.  You guys remember Abby?”

“Of course.  Did you girls vote tonight too?” Carlos asked.

“Yeah.  Stood in line for close to an hour.  What are you guys doing this year.  Going to college?” Abby asked.

“I am, yes.  But Carlos here is working in the family construction business,” Stacey said.  “How about you two?”

“I’m at the junior college trying to get into the nursing program.  Abby is waitressing and trying to form or join a band,” Rebecca said.

“Really!  How’s that going, Abby?” Carlos asked.

“My parents were folk singers when they first met back in the day and they still have some connections in the industry.  Some scouts and agents are likely to be at the Silver Spoon just south of town on Friday night.  My mom pulled some strings and got me on the list of performers,” Abby said.

“Have you guys ever been in there?” Rebecca asked.

“No, I don’t think I have,” Carlos said.

“Maybe we’ll come and listen to you on Friday,” Stacey said.

Their waitress returned with hot chocolate and apple pie and their friends said their goodbyes.  While they ate Carlos suggested they call and try to get Stacey on that list of performers too.  The last three poems she had shown Carlos were really good and he thought she should recite them publicly.  He dialed the Silver Spoon and after a delay was put in touch with the person handling the list.  Carlos put Stacey on the phone and after some small talk she recited a poem from memory.  Stacey smiled and promised to be there Friday at eight.

“I’ll be damned.  The guy loved the poem I just recited and added me to his list.  He said a prize of two hundred dollars will be paid for the best performance and he confirmed that talent scouts and agents are expected to be in the audience,” Stacey said.

“No shit!  You might win, too,” Carlos said.  “It wouldn’t surprise me a bit.”

When they left the diner and started walking across the parking lot a guy in a red hat approached them ranting and raving about how liberal college students were destroying America.  He took a swing at Carlos when he got close enough.  Carlos ducked under the punch and gave the guy a shove.  The red hat went flying and the guy lost his balance, falling into the side of a parked car, and then to the ground.  He stood up again, lowered his head, and began to charge at Carlos as if to tackle him.  Like a matador Carlos stepped out of the way at the last moment and gave the guy a shove.  His head struck the tailgate of a parked pickup and he fell to the pavement, rolling onto his back.  He did not move.

“He’s out cold and he’s bleeding,” Stacey said after taking a closer look.  “We’d better call 911.”

“No.  I don’t think so.  He’s white.  I’m black.  I’ll be arrested,” Carlos said.

“You were acting in self-defense.  I’m your witness,” Stacey said.

“It won’t matter.  You’re my girlfriend.  You’re biased in the eyes of the law.  Let’s get out of here,” Carlos said.

When they got back to Stacey’s dorm room she turned on the local ten o’clock news for the election results.  The election was being described as too close to call.  The next story was about a dead body that had been found in the parking lot of Sammy’s Diner.  Clyde Andrew Thomasson, aged twenty five, had sustained head injuries and had most likely died from a broken neck.  Anyone with information about the incident was being urged to contact the police department.

Stacey turned off the television and told Carlos he had only been acting in self-defense.  She knew he had never intended to harm anyone.  Carlos began pacing back and forth in front of her, tears beginning to roll down his cheeks.  Neither one of them could believe the guy had died.

“Fuck!  I’m in big trouble now,” Carlos said.

It occurred to Stacey that there may have been security cameras outside the diner.  She told Carlos to take off his jacket and shirt and she gave him an old sweatshirt he had loaned her a couple weeks earlier.  He put it on and decided he had better disappear.  Stacey kissed him once and reminded him that he had not meant to harm or kill anyone.  She told him again that he had acted in self-defense.  After he left, Stacey put his shirt and jacket into a plastic shopping bag and walked across campus to where dumpsters were lined up behind the cafeteria building.  She reached into one and carefully dug a little hole first so her bag would not be visible on top of the heap.  She then covered the bag with other garbage.

She returned to the dormitory a few minutes before eleven when security guards were supposed to lock the doors.  She had not seen anyone.  She prayed that no one had seen her.  When she entered her room again her roommate Ophelia was stretched out on a bed.

“Did you get a chance to vote today, Stacey?” Ophelia asked.

“Of course.  After months of preparation I wasn’t going to miss this.  How about you?”

“Yeah, I did too.  Voted for Secretary Clinton even though Wikileaks burned her a new one a couple weeks ago,” Ophelia said.

“Too bad Obama couldn’t run for another term,” Stacey said.

“It is, too.  For the past eight years it’s felt like we had a friend in the white house.”

Stacey’s cell phone chirped with a call from Carlos and she answered it.  She went into the small bathroom for some privacy and to clean up after handling the garbage.  Carlos told her of his half-baked plan to call Sammy’s Diner the next morning and impersonate a security company salesman.  If they were not interested in the product, it probably meant they already had cameras in use.  If they were interested and allowed him to set a sales appointment, it most likely meant they did not already have security cameras in that parking lot.  If the result of his call was inconclusive he might have to cruise through the parking lot again and take another look.  But he did not want to risk being recognized if he could help it.

Stacey told him to be careful and filled him in on her trip to the dumpsters.  Carlos said he had never cared much for that jacket anyway.  Stacey urged him to consider borrowing someone else’s car and wearing a disguise of some kind if he returned to the scene.  Carlos thanked her for the suggestion… told her he loved her… and hung up.  Stacey could hear him sobbing between his last words.  She loved a man who cried.

The next morning they all learned that, by the thinnest of margins, Donald Trump had won in the Electoral College and would be the next president.  There was shock and disbelief on the college campus.  Hillary had won the popular vote by close to three million but that did not matter.  Ophelia reminded Stacey that the Electoral College had produced unjust results before.  In the very beginning the policy had been to severely restrict the right to vote.  Only white males who owned property were permitted to do so.  At least eight times in our nation’s history the candidate who won in the Electoral College had not won the popular vote.  Thomas Jefferson, Rutherford B. Hayes, John Kennedy, George W. Bush, and now Donald Trump were among them.  Stacey asked Ophelia how she knew all this.  She was Native American and had grown up protesting against oil pipelines on a reservation in South Dakota.  Studying America’s shortcomings was a passion for her.

At lunch in the school cafeteria that day an informal discussion took place about the Electoral College.  No one was able to defend it.  What were our founding fathers thinking (or drinking) when they had come up with that gem?  In over two centuries why had it not been dissolved?  It had clearly subverted the will of the people on multiple occasions.  The students all agreed that the Electoral College was a relic from the past, from the days when the outcomes of elections were decided in smoke-filled rooms by a select, corrupt few.

Stacey had found inspiration.  A poem about American injustice?  Why the hell not.  You did not have to look far to see it.  She was dating a great guy who happened to be African American and her roommate was Native American.  The consequences of racial discrimination were all around her.  Growing up white in the suburbs Stacey had rarely even seen a police car.

After dinner that night Stacey took a walk by herself and called Carlos.  He said he had scrapped the idea of impersonating a salesman out of fear that a suspicious call might be traced back to him.  His uncle had been awarded a contract for a construction job in a neighboring state and he was thinking about asking if he could join that crew.  It would get him out of town for a few months.  Stacey told him he might be overreacting but she understood.  He promised to call her as soon as he knew more.  Carlos suggested that maybe they both should stay clear of Sammy’s Diner.  Stacey agreed.

They confirmed their plan to patronize the Silver Spoon on Friday night and Carlos said he would come and get her at about seven.  Patronize, good word, Carlos told her.  They also talked about how shocked they were that Trump had won the election.  It was a little frightening to think about what a Trump presidency might look like.

Stacey was approaching the school library and she went inside after their phone call had ended.  She pulled a small notebook and pen from her purse and sat down in a remote corner surrounded by bookshelves.  A few phrases morphed into a couple lines and before long she had the first stanza of a new poem.

She tried to envision what America could become.


Writers Forum is open to submissions for the blog or the newsletter. Please submit copy to the editor at writersforumeditor@gmail.com . Electronic submissions only. Microsoft Word format, with the .docx file extension, is preferred but any compatible format is acceptable. The staff reserves the right to perform minor copy editing in the interest of the website’s style and space.

Type of Material and Guidelines for e-newsletter and Website Submission: 1.) Your articles on the art or craft of writing. 2.) Essays on subjects of interest to writers. (200 words can be quoted without permission but with attribution.) 3.) Book or author reviews. 4.) Letters to the Editor or Webmaster. 5.) Information on upcoming events, local or not. 6.) Photos of events. 7.) Advertise your classes or private events.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Queen’s Letter: My Country is on Fire

Writers Forum President and Queen Laura Hernandez submitted a short piece on supporting the protests in the middle of COVID-19 on the day the one demonstration was to assemble in the Kohl’s parking lot. Before I could get it posted, that plan had been postponed. And then merely changed locations. And then another one added.

It was a chaotic weekend, and between the breaking events chaos and my day job, it didn’t get posted right away, and events quickly moved past the content of most of Laura’s message .

Because this seems to be an ongoing event, we decided to post the still-relevant parts of her piece.

We welcome any piece submitted by members that helps us navigate these difficult times. That’s what writers do. See below for submission guidelines.


My Country is on Fire

For many of us, it’s too dangerous to be in a public gathering right now. Chingona.
 
There are still ways for you to be safe and supportive. Yup, it’s money where your mouth is.

 

As protests continue across the country, police continue to make arrests of those exercising their constitutional rights to fight injustice. Here are a few places you can donate to bail funds to support protestors who have been arrested:

Make it count.
Because Black Lives Matter and Justice for All must be made real.

Writers Forum is open to submissions for the blog or the newsletter. Please submit copy to the editor at writersforumeditor@gmail.com . Electronic submissions only. Microsoft Word format, with the .docx file extension, is preferred but any compatible format is acceptable. The staff reserves the right to perform minor copy editing in the interest of the website’s style and space.

Type of Material and Guidelines for e-newsletter and Website Submission: 1.) Your articles on the art or craft of writing. 2.) Essays on subjects of interest to writers. (200 words can be quoted without permission but with attribution.) 3.) Book or author reviews. 4.) Letters to the Editor or Webmaster. 5.) Information on upcoming events, local or not. 6.) Photos of events. 7.) Advertise your classes or private events.