I want to thank each and every person for every bit of it because I’m going to do my best to weave all those strands of emotion and experience into something wonderful.
Nearly 3 years ago I deleted all the writing I’d done up to that point in my life and asked myself: “Does writing really matter to you?” No one was asking me to write. No one asked me to write Beneath the Wood, start this blog, write two more novels, or any of the hundreds of pages…
Find the core of your scene and build around it, don’t panic and have plagues of locusts fly in just because it feels “too small.”
Even if you cannot remember you need to know and read here that you are someone. Hold onto that. When these facts have all faded away and you feel like stopping, don’t. Move forward.
More than a decade sitting on this one and I’m finally feeling the pull of it as being imperative rather than merely tempting.
I make a point of marking my birthday with reviewing where I’ve come in the past year. I spoke in a prior post about the broader road traveled since I was a teenager, but my actual birthday this past Wednesday was a beautiful reminder of just how fantastic this past year has been. I can’t…
Who we are to the world- not just who we are trying to be.
If there’s anything that starts to weigh us down it’s the potential of things that might or could have been, but aren’t. I think those are the living ghosts we can be haunted by that keep us up at night no matter how good things are.
Stories with women that are just set dressing or targets for the male protagonists are worthless. Flesh her out. Give her agency and goals of her own.
That is what this book is for me. It’s a silly story about a man who accidentally makes a movie, but along the way he, and hopefully I in writing it, will break, edit, delete and rewrite the articles above into something simpler, something elegant.