Poems, eh? Poems. And when I say they poured out of me, I quite literally mean it. I’m almost embarrassed to say how quickly this collection came to fruition. Why, though? Why miss horror writer are you writing poems? Why not? I...I guess I needed to pour my soul onto the page. Maybe, deep down, … Continue reading Why the Wet Water?
DO YOU ever think about that? There’s an exception, of course: novels presented as transcribed verbal storytelling, like Stephen King’s Dolores Claiborne. For the most part, though, all first-person protagonists are writers. That’s not to say the character necessarily identifies as a writer within the time frame of the story, but whatever they experienced in … Continue reading All First-Person Protagonists are Writers
I DON’T mean to add to the bitterness and despair of the Writing Community, but I have a bone to pick with this place. I’m starting to think it’s no community at all but rather a crowded street where the best interactions feel like calling out across the crowd and the average interaction is getting … Continue reading Writing Community or Writing Crowded Street?
TODAY I'VE been thinking about the night I decided on a whim to start my Twitter account. I didn't know why I was doing it at first, but I quickly became connected to this community of authors, and suddenly I had access to one big ongoing conversation about books and writing. This was brand new … Continue reading I’m Living the Dream Over Here
I'm in bed this morning, cradling a heating pad and trying to ignore my body. I've had a lot of musculoskeletal pains over the years, along with some other surprises as I've aged. As I lie here, accepting that I'm being forced to take some time off, I found myself pondering this body and why … Continue reading The Physicalness of Things
I promise I will start a series of writing tip posts soon but, reflecting on this weekend, I wanted to talk about gratitude. This past Saturday, I was a part of the Take 190 Book and Art Festival in Killeen, Texas. It was such a wonderful experience. I arrived early and sipped on a latte … Continue reading Gratitude
Ripping off a bandaid hurts like the dickens. Jumping into a cold pool takes your breath away. Turning on the radio after your sibling unknowingly cranked the volume to max will probably make you feel like you've shattered your ear drums. Change can be abrasive and uncomfortable; it can make you seek the familiarity of … Continue reading Slow Boil