Here are ways to give more to your audience (no matter the size)

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Wake up kids. We’ve got the dreamers disease

Sometimes ’90s music can actually teach us something about life. Whether a writer or creator, we all know the importance of building an audience and yet it scares the living daylights out of us.

And a lot of it requires giving more than we could ever imagine.

It’s scary territory, and even for me, I have only just begun the process of building an audience.

It’s all about the baby steps, though. Even though my niche audience may not be on Medium, there is still a lot I can impart…

Hello there, dear stranger. I have a small question.

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Hello there, dear stranger.
I have a small question:
How did it feel to fall in love?
Was it like love at first sight?
Or did it happen slowly, sweetly
unraveling with time?
Did she take your breath away?
Or was it like life breathed into you again…
A gust of wind that blew in your favor?

Maybe she is not a ‘she’ at all.
Instead, perhaps a ‘he’, an ‘it’, or something else…
When you fell, did you lose yourself?
Did you ever find yourself once more?

Did you set bounds and measures to your love,
or did you give…

What to do when your writing isn’t solving people’s problems…

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If you’re someone like me, you probably often hit a dead-end in your writing (let’s not call it writer’s block).

For some reason or other, we stop hitting the “publish” button because an alarm whirrs in our head:

Is our writing actually adding value in the world of Keeping Up With The Kardashians, TikTok, and Baby Yoda?

Is what you value actually valuable enough to publish to the world?

It seems old, it seems redundant, but our mind often replays the same scenarios that newbie-noob writers (I’m not afraid to call myself out) often entraps themselves within: we engage with…

I’m back, guys.

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Dear Medium friends,

I did it, guys. Draft one of my first novel is completed.

It’s not perfect. It’s not where I want it to be.

But it’s where it should be: completed, imperfect, and ready for round 2 of drafting.

There is still a long road ahead of me, but without doubt, there are three key elements that had helped me maintain my sanity during the drafting process.

In case you ever need the reminder for the reason why you are doing what you are doing in life, I’m sharing what I learned during the writing process with you.

Dear almost… I wrote this for you. ❤

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Dear Almost,

I wrote this for you.

Not out of bitterness, but so the universe could hear these words even within oblivion.

It’s the closure of knowing that it’s okay if you’ll never read these words but the hope that these words would penetrate the hearts of anyone who goes by the shade of “almost” or who have known an “almost” before.

Sometimes, we think we’ve figured it out in life. But then a curveball hits us, and knocks us off-balanced.

For some, it makes people fall deeper in love. …

I thought so too

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You thought I would wait

But the wind whisked me away
It carried me in its arms
And whispered in my ears

You thought I would wait

But the sun beckoned me close
Wrapped me in its warm rays
Promised me that every day
It would shine on me

You thought I would wait

But the rain would pour
Flooding through my heart
To comfort me and out-beat the waterfall of my tears

When I thought I would wait

The Universe, in turn, spoke to me:

Why do you wait?

Why do you turn away when the wind wants to…

Whether writer or reader, you are wonderful in every way. ❤

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Hello there, stranger. :)

I hope this letter finds you even amidst the noise of the world.

I might not know you or your story — but I acknowledge that you exist — that you are also a human being with as much beauty and as many flaws that I have as well.

I have always been bad about keeping up with the people who have decided to take their time to read my work and follow me here on Medium. It is the mirror to my friendships even in real life.

I like to bask in solitude too much…

So she bled flowers

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There was a girl who loved the world,
and so she had bled flowers.

They wanted to cure her of the disease -
of the behemoth:
worldly desire.

She loved the flowers
and they loved her back.

Their pleasant scent would tickle her nose.
She’d smile as they waved to her in the wind.
Every day, they would greet the girl:
always waving, always fragrant.

The flowers begging her to come out into the wild.

You are loved.

The disease runs deep,
they said to her.

Listen to the spires
be cured of this curse forever…

Laura Gulbranson

I love, therefore I write.

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