I had a sort of brainstorm last week. See being a fiction author, I don’t want my blog to be so much about me as it is about things you’re interested in. And when I say you I’m specifically meaning folks who enjoy Christian fiction whether writers or readers.
Niche … niche … niche. From the mountaintops of social media the word comes raining down. All blogs should have one. Bloggers who stay in their niche enjoy building readership and promotions more than writers who tackle too much variety.
And I know that. I really do. I can’t say that I’ve found my niche or have even come close. Because I write Christian fiction, my posts will usually have a spiritual element to them, but then that’s how I think. Other than that, it’s sort of a wash. I write about kids or writing or my journey or writing or books or writing or … you get the idea.
So I’ve been struggling over this whole issue, wanting to find that magical topic. I want to share with you something that will spark interest and encourage.
And all of that comes to this post. Not sure I’ve found my elusive niche yet, but I’m getting closer, I think. I want to try this project out for a few weeks. Let me know how you like it.
The History of My Post
Do you remember reading class in elementary school? I liked it when I got to read aloud, but I confess my distractions set in whenever anyone else read. I’d always read ahead. But my favorite exercise was the one where we had to finish the story or change the ending to it. That’s where this idea came up. Read the initial scene and write what you think happened next. You can share just an idea or a whole new scene. What spark does this inspire? In a couple of weeks, I’ll revisit this scene with your suggestions or come up with something entirely new.
But I can tell you now, this won’t be any fun at all if you don’t play. Come on, you know you want to join us!
Monica Tremeline intended to stay working at the farm even without the pay. As long as she had a bed and meals, the income didn’t matter that much, at least until her savings ran out. But the set to Ian McEever’s chin–the way his gaze drifted to the rough-hewn timbers that formed the ceiling, and his toe tapped against the hollow floorboards–made it clear. He wanted her to leave. Now.
Whiskered old goat. Why did he have to be so stubborn?
She stomped her extra large work boots through the kitchen daring Laralie McEever to fuss, but found her absent. Just as well. Ian’s ire proved enough of an obstacle. His niece’s superior glare and wicked smirk had threatened Monica’s grace limit before. Today, she’d likely pop that saucy little smile right off Laralie’s mouth and ask God to forgive her later.
Piling her clothes into her dad’s old carpetbag, Monica wiped her sleeve under her nose and sniffed. She refused to cry even as a tear slipped over her lashes.
How could the old man think she’d steal from him? Especially now, during the drought? Hadn’t she proved her loyalty over the last few months?
Questions of where she’d go and what she was supposed to do now skimmed across her mind. But her biggest concern was what Trent would think when he heard she’d been fired.
Your turn: What happens next? Who are these people and what’s in their destinies?
Don’t forget to come back in a couple of weeks – same Bat-time.