• Writing it Out: Some Healthy Advice

    Since writing the short story, I’ve been trying to get my novel back on track. I’ve been trying to set myself small goals. 500 words here, 800 words here. It seems that only in times of transit (I’ve been to Bendigo and I’m currently back in Adelaide for a few weeks) I’ve reached over 1000 words. I’m just not feeling the writing and I had been stuck on various bits of my novel and the words are just not coming out. I’m too hard on myself. I know that I am and it’s not something that is going to change. It’s just my nature but instead of actually forcing myself…

  • Sharing Sunday – Robert J Browning (an excerpt)

      I’m slowly dwindling out of  writer friends to bug about Sharing Sunday. So I’m opening it up to you guys. Come and help me share some amazing stories. Send them to my mandi(at)dreamingfullyawake(dot)com with a little bio and you can get your story, song, anecdote showcased on here! Today’s story is by Jess, one of the first friends I made at NMIT! She’s pretty rad. I hope you enjoy her piece. It’s an excerpt from a collection of short stories. She wanted to explore the private lives, a side that is almost never shown in a short story. Leave her some love. Robert J Browning   When Robert J…

  • Fully Awake Dreamer – Avrille Bylok-Collard

    Today’s Fully Awake Dreamer doesn’t need much of an introduction. You’ve seen her around here before! Her gorgeous poem Nightfall, graced my second official #sharingsunday post and she is one of the most adorable women I know. Get to know her a little more, you won’t be sorry. Tell us a little about yourself and what you write. My name is Avrille Bylok-Collard and I’m a terribly shy writer from Melbourne. Raised in the south eastern suburbs for the majority of my life, my hobbies include illustrating pictures that spur in my mind, watching reruns of Pushing Daises and Six Feet Under, learning new facts, writing Fan Fiction, and reading…

  • It’s Time to Build a Great Short Story

    Last week I wrote about being museless, today I’m hear to tell you, my lovely dreamers, that I wrote a short story. Last night I crept out of my room, fed up with my brother’s snoring (seriously how the hell can he keep it up ALL night?) I started up my laptop, lit a few candles and went through my hard drive for a starter and found two I liked. I picked one that pulled me a little more intense and started writing. I didn’t really know where it was going but it ended up being a short story from a different book with a character whom I had no…

  • Fully Awake Dreamers – Christopher Ashworth

      Today’s Fully Awake Dreamer is my buddy Crash. Although he is known in the real world as Christopher Ashworth. He’s my nano buddy, you would have seen his story the other week, but here is a little more into him! Tell us a little about yourself and what you write. My name is Crash, or Chris if you want to be formal, or you’re my parents. I’m almost thirty and in between work, returning to university to study and whatever else the day throws at me I tend to write science fiction, fantasy and the occasional bit of simple fiction (such as what if world hunger suddenly got solved).…

  • Embracing what you have

      Just as a side note, before I start today’s blog post, if you haven’t noticed, I’ve moved over to a new place. I’m now a dot com and I’ve got a new theme. I’m trying to figure out if I really like it, but so far it’s good. I also have a new email! It’s all so exciting. I’m embracing the new. Now onto today’s blog. My gorgeously strong Mum has joined me over here in Melbourne for a week with my brother for my on coming graduation and I learnt that embracing what you have is powerful, it’s unique and I should have done so when I was…

  • Museless

    Now the title is something I find very funny for two reason. One I hate the way people talk about having a muse to write, you either write or you don’t there’s no waiting for it to happen (I’m an optimist at the best of times but writing is work, you have to show up for work!) and two the muse does not exist. Did you read that? It does NOT exist. It really doesn’t. Writing is something you sit down and do regardless of if the muse is there or not. Sure I’ve used the excuse a lot, I’m even almost using it now, but I’m proving to myself…

  • Fully Awake Dreamer – Tom O’Connell

    Today’s Dreamer is a writer who stumbled into my life when he entered a piece into the audio journal I was working on at uni (which is now my baby through my internship!) and someone who I wasn’t actually very close to until we started the back and forth commentary on our blogs! Amazing how things work out sometimes. He’s a really great guy and finally getting to introduce him to you all here! Tell us a little about yourself and what you write. I’m Tom O’Connell, a writer, editor and tea aficionado based in Melbourne, Australia. I once defined myself as a literary short fiction writer, but my tastes…

  • The Bottom Of The Well

      For weeks I’d felt like something was off. I couldn’t put my finger on it. I was having random chest pains from the stress at work and the stress of money. Or at least I thought I was. I took deep breaths and waited for the feeling to pass. I did meditation and had long hot bubble baths. But even still I felt off. On Friday, the day before my life changed completely I felt weird; disconnected; hollow. I mentioned this to my bestie and she tried to help me through it. I thought I was past it. Saturday rolled around and I woke up at 6:16am, a full…

  • Sharing Sunday – Wulfa’s Story Part One

      Today’s Dreamer is a fellow NaNoWriMoer. I can’t remember how we got close but it happened along the way, he’s part of the reason as to why I’m building up a tolerance to beer again. Thanks for that Crash. Here’s his story. Wulfa’s Story Part One In a city the rain pattered around, in the loneliest of buildings odd sounds abound. In the darkest corner a creature did sit, with horn on his head and tail on his back, his big brown eyes watched the rain pita-pita-pat. His name was Wulfa and he was alone. He knew not where he had come from, nor not where he had been,…