writing
Writing Secret Duds
I need to park my main work-in-progress for a period so that I can return to it with fresh eyes, which puts me in one of my rare lulls where I’m forced to stop thinking about what normally obsesses me. I can’t not write, because I become prickly and discontented if I stop, so instead, I’m kicking around ideas for something else. I’m throwing noodle possibilities together to see how they stick, rereading old favorite books to see why I liked them, daydreaming, staying up late, and nibbling… Continue reading
Little to Report
This writer has little to report. I type, stare out the window, type some more, ignore my to-do list, and type. At the end of the day, it looks like I’ve done nothing. The breakfast dishes still list in the sink, and no one has moved the pile of tax things on the table.
It sort of reminds me of raising toddlers, actually. We’d live in the moment all day, building towers, talking, running, and laughing, while the housework went ignored around us. At the… Continue reading
In the Hole
Last week, I reached a place in my manuscript where I didn’t like the conversation my characters were having. It was trivial boy-girl chatter, and nothing was happening: no trouble, no relationship development. It bored me. I stepped back to question if the scene was worth revising or if it needed to be in the book, and it didn’t. So I read ahead to see where danger in the story made me excited again, and it was a good twenty pages further along.
How, I wondered,… Continue reading
Unexpected Gifts
You all know how much I love my editor Nancy Mercado since I babble on about her every chance I get. You may not know that these days, she’s on maternity leave with her sweet and miraculous babe. I couldn’t be happier for her. She gave me a thumbs up and an enormous amount of trust on her way out the door, and now, basically, I’m facing months of no editorial feedback on Book 1 of Project Next.
I have a complete draft, mind you. This novel… Continue reading
Foliage Distractions
Find me a more
beautiful place
to write. Whenever
I look up, I’m lost
in color.
It’s incredibly dis
tracting.
Does Writing Full-Time Feel Like Work?
A friend of mine dropped by this afternoon to return a book, and I was so happy to see her. She had her kids in the car, so we didn’t talk long, but we caught up for a few minutes and when I walked her back out, I was able to see her little guy sleeping in his car seat and her daughter’s sweet grin.
She asked what I was up to, and I explained where I was with my latest project. She listened kindly for a moment… Continue reading