Sympathy for the Devil

I once heard it was a good idea for everyone to have a job as a waiter or waitress at some point in their lives. (I believe the correct word these days would be "server.”) The idea is that we’ll all be restaurant customers and turning the tables on the situation---so to speak---will give us... Continue Reading →

Enter at your own risk

As much as I love writing, sometimes I hate it. After bellyaching for a while about how I don't know what to do with the feedback from my beta readers, I decided to take the cure. Once again, my weekday calendar contains a slot for writing from 8 a.m. to 9 a.m. (it's my ROW80... Continue Reading →

Art vs. commerce

Last week, my usually sedate monthly critique group erupted in a lively debate. We're a diverse bunch, consisting of non-fiction writers pursuing memoir and personal essay, as well writers in various fiction genres: chick-lit, mystery, young-adult fantasy, historical, and literary (me). We seem like a gaggle of odd geese but I have come to really... Continue Reading →

Tempus fugit; memento mori*

I began writing this post to explain why so much time elapses between my blog posts. I intended to say something about how my interior experience of time differs so radically from “objective” time. Wasn’t it only a few days ago that I wrote “A storyteller in search of a genre?” No, it was two... Continue Reading →

Create a website or blog at WordPress.com

Up ↑