Author Archive: Amy Rose Davis

About Amy Rose Davis

Amy Rose Davis is a freelance commercial writer based in the Pacific Northwest. She specializes in writing compelling business copy that harnesses the power of story and creates conversations between businesses, consumers, and the public.

School’s In!

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And another month down…

But it’s September, and that means SCHOOL!

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Story Problems

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Two weeks later…

I don’t know why I’m having such a hard time getting back into a blogging routine. When I had “Modicum of Talent,” I blogged reliably. Maybe I got burned out–I don’t know. In any case, it’s not so much that I forget about the blog. It’s more a combination of factors like the lack of routine in summer, the feeling that I really have nothing new to say, the reluctance to spend time during the day writing… It seems like blogging falls to the bottom of the priority list most of the time.

In any case, I have been writing. (more…)

So Much for Once a Week…

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Remember how I said I’d update once a week with how the writing was going?

Yeah, that was cute.

It’s been a little over two weeks since I committed to attempting to write 500 words a day, every day, and to update the blog weekly with my progress. Well, I guess summer happened, because I obviously have not updated the blog.

I have, however, written.

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The Why

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I’ve been thinking the last couple of days about the “why” of writing. Why do I do this thing? Why do I want to? It certainly seems to be a tortuous experience, one in which I rarely see the point anymore, and yet I do it or wish I could do it.

I have a history of telling stories. Before I was writing them down, I was making them up. I had a running tale about Peter Pan and the Lost Boys in my head for years. (more…)

Doing the Things

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Lesson from taking two months away from the blog: When Google offers to translate your page automatically, you may have let too much Russian spam pile up.

Hi again, everyone. It’s been a busy two months (or so) around here. Since my last blog, I’ve:
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Loading Software

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Spring is here, kind of. I say kind of because it’s still not even a little bit warm in Oregon. Honestly, I’m usually the one telling people to buck up and enjoy the rain, but even I’m tired of it. We finally hit our first 65 degree day last Friday, and it was about three weeks later than usual. C’mon, sun–give us a little break!

But despite the cold and rain (or because of it–not sure), I’ve had a few successes that I thought I’d share:
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Reboot

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Good afternoon, internet.

I’ve started and stopped this blog post about a dozen times since the beginning of the year. I feel like I should let you all know that I’m still alive, but I’m struggling with what to say, exactly. I guess the best thing to do is my usual approach–stumble into it and see if I can rediscover my voice along the way.

I’ve already shared that 2016 was the hardest year of my life. (more…)

There’s Still a Baby

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Hello, friends.

Things are mostly unchanged around here. We’re still in a pretty thick patch of brambles. My family is fractured and broken, and my writing is still at a standstill with no hope of return.

And it’s to this season of joy that I bring grief, pain, anguish unresolved.

This has been the hardest year of my life. (more…)

Square One

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I’ve tried to think of a way to start this blog so many times, and I can’t think of the perfect thing, so let me just start with a confession: It’s been a rough year around here.

Okay, “rough” is an understatement.

I can’t really go into details (not that I’d even want to), so let’s just say that it seems like my family has been Satan’s punching bag since May. It’s not pretty. It hurts.

And it’s completely derailed my fiction writing.

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Seasons

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September is my favorite month. The cynics among you who know me well will assume it’s only because the children are back in school, but that’s not the case. It’s because of autumn.

I’m not into pumpkin spice everything. (Does it occur to anyone that pumpkin isn’t a spice? And pumpkin spice is a spice blend? It’s not like one spice. Anyway.) It’s just the season itself–the crisp mornings, the changing colors, the rain, the last burst of summer we often get when it’s still comfortable to wear sandals and capris during the day, but we have to put on jackets in the evening. This is my favorite time of year–that time before the brutal East Wind starts driving icepicks through our chests here on the west end of the Columbia River Gorge, before the encroaching Christmas rush threatens to choke the joy out of the whole season, before the long stretch of darkness in January and February depletes all the vitamin D from the Pacific Northwest population. It’s after the heat, after the harried rush of summer, after the bickering siblings go back to school. It’s a lull–a rest–a retreat.
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