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 →

Wrestling

There's a point I always reach in writing a novel that feels like running headlong into a brick wall, and I've reached it with my novel-in-progress. It usually comes about 50 or 75 pages in, when the initial idea has begun to have some "legs." Many scenes have been written, characters begin to emerge. Sometimes... Continue Reading →

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