When I was in high school, I wrote constantly. Stories spilled out of my brain, and my pencil was barely swift enough to catch them all. Sprawled on my bed, upright at my desk, out on the swing (where the stories raced around my mind, here and gone in nearly the same instant). Summer nights while the rest of the family slumbered, the hours ticking away as I reveled in my made-up world.Continue reading
As regular readers of this blog have undoubtedly noticed by now, I am not a person of few words. Continue reading
A couple weeks ago, I shared the big news that my novel placed as a finalist in the Faulkner-Wisdom Creative Writing Competition.
And now, there’s more news, because today, the novella lists were posted, and . . . Continue reading
For some writers, stories spring into being, fully-formed and populated with fascinating, well-rounded characters. The act of writing is little more than taking dictation from the Muse, with perhaps a bit of sprucing up here and there to ensure that the foreshadowing is properly balanced with the revelation and the metaphors sparkle.
We do not like these people. Continue reading