#CollaborativeWriting

[ancientroyalblood]

"Collaborative Writing Projects: Exploring Co-Authorship"

The realm of storytelling has seen a significant shift towards collaboration, where writers team up to create unique narratives. Co-authorship, or collaborative writing, has become a prevalent method for producing engaging content across various genres. This approach offers a myriad of benefits while also presenting challenges that demand synergy and creative compromise. The Essence of…

[dino-crackers05]

Searching for a Roleplay Partner

Hi! Let’s start off by telling you a bit about myself. My name is Dani. I’m in my mid 20’s I live in the US in PST time zone. I’ve been roleplaying since I was probably 13 and in my off years I spent a lot of time writing as well. I work a full time job but it’s remote so I reply pretty quickly. Generally I’ll let my partner know if I’m going to have a busy day or be away for any reason. I also go to college as well (I’m an English major ha) buuut it’s summer break so HUZZAH! Now, what I’m looking for in a partner: I’m looking for someone who is open to communication and discussing plot ideas and stuff like that. If I come to you saying that I’m not feeling the plot I don’t want hurt feelings I want us to work together to improve the plot somehow or agree to try something new. I’m not really a fan of premade characters. In my experience they often bring baggage from previous storylines that either halt the progress of the story or just don’t fit with the plot that we have agreed upon, however, this does not mean I absolutely will not accept premade characters. It simply means I may need some convincing. I also need a partner who is going to be flexible. I don’t want one character to constantly be a damsel of sorts while the other is repeatedly swooping in to save the day. Yes drama is good and angst is great but let’s not play into the victim complex more than necessary. As far as post length, literacy, and so on goes, I prefer my partner to give me something good to work with. I’d rather spend a day waiting for a reply and get something with substance that helps move the plot and isn’t distracting with typos etc. than to have a fast back and forth that doesn’t get anywhere. Speaking of moving the plot, WE SHOULD BOTH BE MOVING THE PLOT FORWARD! I do nooooot like having to be the person to constantly put things into action only to get my partners responses and that is all. What I will roleplay: I’m honestly open to anything. I have a few plot ideas in my brain I mostly prefer slice of life plots fantasy or supernatural whatever you prefer to call it and some adventure type stuff. I’m not big on gore or horror so if that’s what you’re looking for I’m not your gal. I can play many characters or one character. I am only interested in playing M/M plots at the moment so please keep that in mind.

[mandyfineeee]

9/6 Writing Journal

When I read The Primary Care Clinic as a Writing Space I was immediately interested. Before I began to dig deep into the article, I immediately began thinking about health care and how I see my doctors take notes and pass them on. As I began to read, the first word I noticed was “charting”. Honestly, I can say that when I see my doctor, for example, taking notes, I always wondered what they were writing down and what may have been left out. The article began by discussing how adding writing stewards for the clinicians could benefit them because the communication from clinician to the client can and would be more efficient. The point was brought up that the clinician’s notes are sophisticated, but it brings up the questions such as “how are they sophisticated?’ and “is there a better way to take down notes and still be sophisticated?”. If notes are taken down when the client is speaking to the clinician, different details could be missed and issues can and will most likely be worded differently than they may mean to be and once those notes are passed on, things can start to get confusing.

A research study was explained about POVMR, a way of “charting” for veterinary clinicians. In this study, it was explained how POVMR can make it harder for the clinician to talk to their clients because of the wordings and the extent of the notes taken. Reflecting on my own thoughts here began to make me wonder how many clinicians feel about this and if they even realize how when they explain some things that some of their clients do not quite understand what they are being told. I can say I have experienced certain situations like this.

The main goal of this study was to express the disconnect amongst writing in the clinics. It is discussed that the Clinic Transformation Project was created because health care providers were frustrated. They were frustrated about the different levels of care they were able to provide to their clients.

Another study was done at Michigan State and to sum it up, it basically explains that there are so many people in the system working, clinicians to be exact, and it can cause a large disconnect. Clinicians are in and out of the office, notes are taken on sticky notes and pieces of paper, and notes are passed along to be charted, but the efficiency of these notes can begin to lack as time goes on. Technology is also changing so when notes are to be converted into different technologies that can also create a disconnect.

In the system, there is a lack of training in writing or Medical Students and that also creates a disconnect. Being more coordinated and working more collaboratively with others through more advanced and better writing overall help benefits clients. Personally, I think this is important for everyone to understand. If clinicians can find a way through writing to work more collaboratively with each other, it can also really benefit the clients, especially ones who are in and out of doctors constantly for an ongoing illness. It can help benefit their treatment because writing is networking and networking needs to be efficient, and most importantly collaborative without lacking important details.

For my two rhetorical strategies, I used visual and linguistic. By using linguistic text, I can better explain my thought processes and how I personally read and perceived the text. I added the visual aspect because in my text I discussed a lot about note-taking, so by adding the gif of note-taking, it makes the discussion more appealing and interesting to read!

[with-cross-stitch]

“Maybe this is what Papa was drawn to, the elemental hues. I considered the fact that some of us were. Walking around with this longing in our bones for a deep rich cerulean.”

from “The Bitter Oranges of Jacob Breslin”, by Amber Gallant. Coming exclusively to https://cross-stitch.blog this Sunday, February 3rd. 

[lauracross-art-blog]

‘As Yasmín travels home that day she thinks about the journeys of all these stories’ 🚂 One of my illustrations taken from ‘Collaborative Fiction Writing’, link in my bio. . . . . . . . #illustration #illustrator #art #artist #characterdesign #characterartist #stories2connect #uclan #illo #scbwi #artistoninstagram #illustrationartists #collaborativewriting #instartist #characterdesign #discover #bookillustration #drawing #onthetrain #reflect #reflecting #travelling #journey #story https://www.instagram.com/p/BrYOCV6n05w/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=1srqa5m2xqmzr

[magicmamahandmade]

Enjoying these panels! #fullsailwrites#fullsail #writingconference #writer #writingcommunity #dangerouslyovereducated #collaborativewriting #fanfiction #ishouldbewriting https://www.instagram.com/p/CUQfXNoraP6/?utm_medium=tumblr

[thecrookedwriterspath]

Look I still do these! Not completely satisfied with this graphic, but I'm not sure what else to do, so. XD Probably just need to get back into the swing of it. . . . #sparkpost #collaborativewriting #WIP #writing #pie #cowriting #crookedwriter #crooked_writer #adobespark https://www.instagram.com/p/B76iCw_lA0q/?igshid=su0f5t9n6r24

[kendall-london-reagan]

🇫🇷 E Z R A▪G R A H A M▪L I N W O O D Avatar/Base ▪ #SiriusBlack From #HarryPotter Art by @viria94 Age ▪ 27 ans Métier ▪ Fleuriste Pouvoir ▪ Transformer les apports dangereux pour l'organisme en énergie. Forum ▪ http://astrophelcity.forumactif.org/ Shipping ▪ @baghera.cardinalred 🇬🇧 E Z R A▪G R A H A M▪L I N W O O D Avatar/Base ▪ Sirius Black From Harry Potter Art by #viria13 Age ▪ 27 y.o Occupation ▪ Florist Pouvoir ▪ Transform the inputs dangerous for the body into energy Forum ▪ http://astrophelcity.forumactif.org/ Shipping ▪ @baghera.cardinalred . . . . . #rpg #roleplay #literaterp #illustration #roleplayinggame #forumrpg #forum #forumactif #rp #manga #roleplay #creation #forumrp #rpcommunity #rpgforum #writing #collaborativewriting

[moodytryme]

Je reviens d'une soirée au cours de laquelle j'ai pu faire des #rencontres très intéressantes et échanger des expériences différentes de l'#écriture ! #infiniterpg #communaute #partage #sharing #collaborativewriting #passion #passionnes #infiniters

[saleswomaninprint]

WRITING TOGETHER IS A PIECE OF CAKE!

At least: it will be when you do it the smart way. Otherwise it will quickly become a nuisance.

I still remember my experiences in the old days, working together in MSWord. The “Track changes” functionality was switched on and before we knew it, we were all looking at a dazzling amount of colors, lines and arrows telling us what have been changed. It drove me nuts.

WRITING TOGETHER WITH INTERACTIVE ACTS

Already feeling desperate? Well, don’t be! Because NOW the good news is coming in. There is a way to write together that overcomes all that misery from the past:

Clear document layout set up in the “cloud”

Accessible 24/7

Only one version: the most recent one

Everyone can contribute and comment in a structured way

It is about content and not about nice sentences

Nor is it about typing errors

We will turn all YOUR input into appealing content

All the above, and more, Interactive Acts can offer you. Now how does that sound? Check out https://interactiveacts.com/2020/07/16/writing-together-is-a-piece-of-cake/

[wordsby-f-blog]

Above us the lights of the hotel flicker as the people pass back and forth behind the windows. The light streams over the lake and guesses at what lies beyond its reach Like us guessing at reality while we are still dreaming. I watch our unruly reflection trace the birth of dreams that came to be behind walls that whisper in hushed tones, their blank canvas waiting for our unutterable confessions. Neither of us can shake himself out of the trance As guarded as our eyes were, our words give us away each time we try to deny our minds. So we lie in silence, lips pursed together, our tired souls no longer lingering in an endless bind. . . A collaboration between @lizzielona and @wordsbyf . . #wordsbyf #wordsonapage #words #wordgasm #wordporn #write #writer #writers #writing #writersofig #writerscommunity #writersnetwork #writersofinstagram #poem #poems #poets #poetrynetwork #poetrycommunity #poetryofinstagram #poetsofinstagram #poetsofig #collaborativewriting

[madaheadstories]

"Wasn’t friendship its own miracle, the finding of another person who made the entire lonely world seem somehow less lonely?" - from A Little Life by Hanya Yanagihara Often, friendships begin and end in ways that we can't fathom or understand. What we can hold onto however, are the ways in which they change us forever. F.R.I.E.N.D.S 1994-2004

[enzomartinelli]

Twittering Tales #149 🐦✒️💥

Twittering Tales #149 🐦✒️💥 #collaborativewriting #flashnarrative #flashfiction

Written for this week’s Twittering Tales prompt from Kat Myrman.

Return Home

Exiting the station David got welcomed by huge queues of people trying to get a taxi to their destination. A Bank Holiday and the Notting Hill Carnival meant there was only controlled road traffic in the area. It seemed his return home was more adventurous than his holiday.

(275 characters)

🇬🇧 I find this…

[lauracross-art-blog]

This summer I was working on a lovely project, illustrating a booklet which is full of ideas to bring people together through story telling 😊 Here’s the cover! I’ll post some of the inside illustrations soon. . . . . . . #illustrator #artist #illustration #bookcoverdesign #bookcover #stories2connect #uclan #community #collaborativewriting #artistoninstagram #characterdesign #project #digitalart https://www.instagram.com/p/BrL5awOnxdk/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=18d3szs2ehktd

[untoldworld-blog1]

When Soul Died - Prologue

When Soul Died is a tragic story following a family of an internally displaced refugee family in Syria. The characters in the story are fictional, while some events are described as narrated by survivors. Inspired by current events, the story relies heavily on contributions from Syrian refugees and their stories.  The purpose of this novel is to encourage empathy towards victims of wars through story telling. This is a collaborative piece of writing and all contributions from war refugees are welcome. 

Prologue

“Fetch her some water, Aminah.”

“Abdallah…“

“Water, I said. Will you get it?“

“But there’s not enough for all -“

“Cut it out, Aminah! Do you think I forgot about our children?” He grabbed her by the shoulders and pulled her so close that the breeze between their bodies changed direction. Aminah showed no resistance. Everyone was too weak to resist. Her tears started falling down on the drenched soil. 

“Cut it out!” 

“Abdallah…,” she whispered in between the sobs. 

“Aminah. You are the backbone of our family, our bravery. You are the mother, the example. They need your strength, and mine, even more than they need water. Courage is all we have to feed them. You need to stop, right now. If you cry, they cry. If you walk with your head held high, they will, too. We need to keep walking, now, with this trophy, faster than ever before. The border is close.” 

He pointed his fingers toward the horizon near and far, with all sorts of sad signs of the approaching border crossing. Desolate houses, rags and sleeping bags halfway swallowed up by the desert. Empty water bottles, entire sea of bullets, grenade safety pins and other small pieces of metal lived in symbiosis with the sand. And sharp they were, as if their only goal was to live on forever in full dedication on doing the thing they were created for - to hurt more. In the distance, right where the sand met the horizon, tents were sporadically arranged to shelter all the families and lone survivors waiting for any sort of miracle - chickpeas, asylum, water, passport, a warmer blanket or peace, all seemed equally satisfying, all seemed equally distant.

“The water,” said Abdallah and released his wife from the grip of his unusually rusty hands. Back in the days when Syria was a real, sovereign country, recognized by the entire world, Abdallah worked as a surgeon. He also played piano and guided his children every Friday and Sunday to develop their musical skills. At work, or by the piano, his hands were soft but strong, steady, and concise. The explosion changed everything… The story of what happened to their home was written in his hands which were now rusty and always in motion as if they had their own will and wanted to run off, away from Abdallah's crushed soul. 

“And you drink too. Soon, we’ll be past this wasteland.”

Aminah pushed back and hit Abdallah's chest with her palms. 

“How do you know that? You said the same yesterday! You…” 

... and he was back at her again, this time squeezing Aminah’s jaw in between the hardened fingers of his right hand, lifting her face higher so she could be a witness to the flaming anger in his eyes. In this new endless darkness never disturbed by the lights of once unbroken civilization, only anger and fear could send a sparkle of light bright enough to interrupt it.  That flaming doom in Abdallah’s eyes had cut right through his wife’s willpower. 

“Aminah,” she heard. The way Abdallah said her name sent sparks through his reddened nostrils. She was hurting, her neck felt as if it was about to detach from her heavy skeleton. She fought the gravity with the tips of her feet but rather than a fight, it way a play of hide and seek between her slippers and the ever moving sand. Yet, in a way, this pain was a blessing. After a long time, she felt something, something physical, something other than fear, or guilt, or surrender and apathy. 

Surrender was the most overwhelming emotion that occupied Aminah’s mental strength for past few weeks. From initial terror to gratitude that her family was blessed enough to survive the raid in their village in full count, Aminah’s consciousness would move towards guilt more often than not.

She felt like a roach. She had been living the life of the only creature that could have possibly survived what had happened to her village. Yet even though the aftermath of her village's destruction had reduced her soul to a wrecked creature who preferred death just a minute ago, her legs fought for life and refused to comply with the degradation. They wanted her to live. So tiny, they were still bravely holding against Abdallah’s rough grip while her lungs sent out a violent stream of air trying to break through the locked larynx and helped her catch breath. 

“Do not try this again.” He said as slowly and quietly as he could and then let her collapse to the ground. This was the second time Abdallah raised his hand on his beloved wife. The first time this happened, Aminah accidentally admitted that she had taken a lift from a stranger on her brief trip to Aleppo. He turned out to be her aunt’s neighbor, which, presumably, they figured out as they conversed in a little restaurant outside the bus station. He had wished he could have just talked it out, he knew Aminah never intended to put his name to shame, but she was just too careless, and so young… He only wanted to teach her a lesson, to protect her from the expanding net of infiltrators everyone had whispered about. But yes, it was also that, he was jealous. She had been his wife for only two months and he disliked the fact that she had socialized so freely with another man. She is twenty-nine now, a mother of their two children. Even though only nine years passed since that incident, Aminah lived through a life-time worth of tragedies, each of which were imprinted on her face. 

“Look what I’m doing! Maybe I’m losing my mind, but I have not lost our way! Do not speak to me this way and do what I say. I believe you can do what is expected of you and let me do what is expected of me.”

Aminah went on to lay down by her children as they slept, and buried her sobs in Ali’s  sweat soaked sweater which was a part of his school uniform. Abdallah sat in front of the fire, looking towards the camp side on the north and wondering. Was that hope of the internally displaced that played with Abdallah's imagination, or was it real? The tents might have been a mere drawing of wishful thinking, colored in by hunger and fatigue. He pretended he hadn’t seen that Aminah hadn’t woken the children up to drink. He focused on the tents and wished he could see them better and watched them all night, but his sight was blurred with tears. Ali, too, fought the tears in his sleepless eyes as he held his little sister in his arms. Zaynab, the little one, she was the only one who stopped crying that night.