Day 9: Magical Indigenous People of Russia #transsiberianwriters #writingchallenge #woctakerussia

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People are more than the costumes they wear. In my travels I have learned that visiting countries is more than taking photos with street performers. I am visiting a place where I hope to embrace and soak up as much as I possibly can from the people I meet and the food that I taste. During this trip I want to be mindful. I don’t want to capture people who are obviously performing or working for the tourist gaze and euro or dollar. I have met so many beautiful people. Remind me to tell you about the herder. He has given me so many ideas for a story. So far Ulan-Ude is my favorite part of this journey. It’s magical here. I feel such a sense of peace. We have rented a hut for the night and we plan on having a bonfire tonight. More on that later.

C2C
1. Hiking and bonfire
2. Five hours of writing daily from this point forward.
3. Email check in/update/love letter to someone back home.

Writing prompts:

1. How has your character lost themselves?
2. What are some of the tests your character will face? Will they rise victorious? Or will we ride with them on a roller coaster of hell? Dig deep. We are allowing our characters to speak to us.

Writing time: everyday we will block at the very least 5 hours of writing time for our projects. Please send me an update on your progress. Where are you getting stuck? How can I support you? Email me the subjects you are writing about and I will provide prompts that tie into your needs.

Love,
Iyawó

Send daily check in email: findingyourforce@gmail.com

✿✿Please feel free to Like ✔ Share/repost ✔ Tag ✔

Tag those you know would benefit from writing, going on a journey and playing daily.

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2 thoughts on “Day 9: Magical Indigenous People of Russia #transsiberianwriters #writingchallenge #woctakerussia

  1. A great post and someone who chooses to travel as I do. I spent an unforgettable month in Vietnam in 2002 and stayed with a colleague’s family. We were in and out of places tourists don’t go. I slept in a bed that Huyen slept in when she was young, I stood at the side of her father’s grave as she told me how she watched communist soldiers shoot him down in front of his young daughter… You cannot buy such memories.

    Like

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