So You Want to Become a Better Writer?
Lesson 11 | Fiction is Hard
This was my first shot at fiction:
The long ships slid silently down the river, carried only by the current. The silence was occasionally broken as birds fled from trees along the river’s edge. In a nearby village, young boys mercilessly taunted each other, playing warrior games.
A lone boy stood just outside the fray. He cradled a tiny rabbit in his arms, gently petting it behind the ears. He was…