Happy endings

I am not in a hurry to read Neville Shute's ON THE BEACH again. Suicide pills are not my idea of a good ending. There are of course, many great books that don't end 'happily ever after'. Good for them. For me, I like at least a satisfactory end to a book. Real life is... Continue Reading →

Sequels and Other Such Difficulties

I have a fondness, in my personal reading, for interconnected books. Not necessarily a series, but books that share characters, or are family sagas, or give a favorite secondary character a chance to step into the spotlight. I also like getting a glimpse of the 'happily ever after' and seeing that indeed, it still exists.... Continue Reading →

Urges and Impulses

I had the urge to sleep in this morning. I'd had an alarm set - I always do - for a bit after five in the morning to get up and write this post. If I have it done ahead, on rare occasion, I shut off the alarm and roll over to sleep the sleep... Continue Reading →

The Quiet Pause

While rereading a seasonal poem, I realized that it fits the pattern Karen pointed out last week with "Lady Diamond." It also fits what Sarah was taking about with the shadows, the quiet darkness, that casts the light and action into higher relief. "Then he said “Good night!” and with muffled oarSilently rowed to the... Continue Reading →

The Blank Page

I finished writing an extraordinarily difficult story last week. It took far longer than it ought, and affected me far more in the real world than I wanted it to. I had to write it, though. Not just because it's going into But Not Broken, which is scheduled for release on Valentine's Day (and oh,... Continue Reading →

Story Progression

My day started at three in the morning with a dog barking, a moment of unreasonable panic, and then snuggles that led to sleeping in. So this is a late post. I could talk about the human psychology of my own reactions - because they bear on writing fully developed characters - but instead I'm... Continue Reading →

The Author in the Story

No, not the so-called authorial Mary Sue/Marty Stu school of fiction, where the reader realizes that the protagonist is the author, just perfected in every way. I can think of one, maybe two people who got away with that for one book, possibly two. Stan Lee slipping himself into the comics on occasion doesn't count,... Continue Reading →

Everyone Eats

There's a trick to grinding spices in the mortar with a pestle. You don't actually want to use much pressure, at least not with marble, which is what I am using. Just let the weight of the pestle do the work, and rub downward into the bowl. Every so often I tip the mortar a... Continue Reading →

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