Writing Risks
A conversation with my editor opened up my novel again, so I’m playing with ideas and first-drafting new scenes once more. It feels like I’m stepping into a wobbly canoe that might get sucked towards a waterfall. Part of me longs to stay on shore where I can tinker with other sections of the novel that are further along, but I can’t have a whole book until I manage these plot holes properly.
All writing feels risky, but sometimes it’s hard to tell if the risk is based on… Continue reading
Embracing Winter
One of my favorite concept movies is Groundhog Day, when Bill Murray keeps waking up in the same day, over and over. He starts out as a jerk and gradually practices becoming nicer and more genuine as the days repeat. He saves people and learns to play the piano, improving himself until finally the spell is broken.
This winter has a similar feel, with repeating days of snow and routine that are hard to distinguish, one from the next. When I glance up out of my… Continue reading
Ice Dam Season

Hero
Snow and ice removal guys are working on my roof. I know a lot more about ice dams and ceiling leaks now than I did a couple weeks ago, and I fear I have more education in my future.
It’s tempting to put an ice dam in my novel. Where is that novel, anyway? The one about the writer who works at home and has people banging on her roof? She’s the sort who gets up in the middle of the night to check the pots under the drips.… Continue reading
Harper Lee Rocks
The news of Harper Lee’s new release makes me happy for more reasons than I can count, but here are my 5 biggest:
1. Guts. Reversing half a century of staunch refusal to publish a second novel, Harper Lee is embracing a whole new world by publishing Go Set A Watchman. I find it fascinating to ponder why she’s doing it now, for a manuscript she wrote decades ago. I applaud her courage in allowing new scrutiny of her work, and I’m so excited to read her… Continue reading
A Blizzard, a Q&A, and Revising
Maybe it’s because of my Minnesotan roots, or because we don’t get huge snowfalls too often in Connecticut, but I like shoveling. Give me a big, two-foot dumping of snow and a decent shovel, and I’m at it. I’m a machine, a mole, a survivor. I like separating off the top layer in one stroke, and the crunchy, digging noise of scraping sidewalk with the second stroke. I like throwing the white stuff in piles that grow ridiculously high and impressing myself with how strong and industrious I am.
When… Continue reading
Going Places
As the cold settles in around my ankles, it’s nice to have an armchair and a computer to transport me far away. One of the deepest pleasures of writing is the escapism it provides, especially when a story takes me somewhere nice. When I wrote The Vault of Dreamers, I purposely gave the story many sunny days to counterbalance the nights of tension, and I enjoyed the view of the prairie in the fall, with the wind rippling the grasses and the towers of the Forge School standing… Continue reading