Treading Water in Writer Land, and Getting Bogged Down in Facts
If it seems like my Blog Posts have been shorter than usual lately, that’s because they probably have been. Every week, I find myself blurting out, shocked, It’s Friday?! and scrambling to figure out what to write. It’s not that I’m behind exactly; I’m just treading water and counting on not getting a leg cramp. I was doing the math on my 2017 production schedule this week (bless Excel formulas when they work), and it wasn’t pretty, but it was doable. Barely. But that does mean I’ll probably be making some changes around the Blog and social media to focus Read more…
News from the Word Mines: Polishing One Pit and Digging Another
Just a quick status report this week on the new Dead Hollow series—I’m neck deep in the storyboards (basically a very loose outline, a paragraph or two per chapter) for Book Two, and the poop is about to hit the oscillator! (Can you tell I’m almost giddy today?) My editor and I have also finished the first round of the Book One (Prodigal) copy edits. She found a couple of things to tweak that helped the story, and I felt particularly gratified that she didn’t get hung up by the seeds I’d deviously planted for Book Two. I’ve mentioned before Read more…
Magpie Moments: The Appropriate Hurricane Beverage (If It’s Good Enough for Jimmy Buffett…)
Aloha! Being Friday and all, I thought I’d take a break from my week of soul-sucking, admin-type things (the next “dashboard” I see better have a V8 engine attached) to give you a quick Magpie Moment, one perfectly themed for your upcoming weekend. “I’ll have the margaritas waiting,” Lisa called out. Our mother had always preferred drinking margaritas to hurricanes at a Hurricane Party. (She’d said it would take more than seventy-five mile-per-hour winds to make her drink anything so vile.) Chapter Thirteen, No Safe Winterport Having lived in New Orleans, I’d have to agree with Syd’s mom. Hurricanes are Read more…
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