Writer’s Superstitions

These days, I hope the only superstition that writers stick to is finding a place with uninterrupted WiFi, a laptop that won’t suddenly commit seppuku, and a steady supply of coffee or other liquid fuels. In fact, I am writing this right now in such a place and my luck is holding. Knock on wood. Continue reading “Writer’s Superstitions”

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Writing Therapy

I look at the pile of “would haves” and “should haves” that was my younger life and realize that I turned to writing as a way to ease the pain and the wrong turns I took. In a sense, my writing has been my therapy. It’s a much better therapy than talking to people who earn a living from that task. I find myself making stuff up when I didn’t want to talk about the things they wanted to ask me about. Which is why I can put the MSU after my name. Continue reading “Writing Therapy”

Suffering Characters

I can’t find and don’t remember who said something to the effect of get your characters up to their eyeballs in alligators and then throw stones at them. It’s good advice and looking back at my favorite books and movies, there is a common theme of how close to losing it all the characters came. By the bye, being up to any body part in alligators is a uniquely American phrase. Perhaps in Ancient Egypt, they were up to their asses in asps, but no record has survived. Continue reading “Suffering Characters”

My Parents Thesis

Are you laughing? Okay, good. Because talking about parents can be a very touchy subject. People I have known were given up at birth for adoption. Many lost their parents due to suicide. Another category watched one or both parents suffer from a disease that we should have found a cure for by now. Accidents, estrangements, other medical issues, all have claimed the lives of other parents. I lost my mother to complications of diabetes twenty some years ago. My father passed away from being old last year. Since then, I have had to think about my characters and their parents. Continue reading “My Parents Thesis”

The Stupids

If I were a heroine, I would walk gracefully into a room, greet everyone with a smile, settle on the sofa next to someone interesting, then proceed to join the conversation already in progress. Everyone would be delighted by my intelligence and my humor. Someone would lean over and ask me where I purchased that beautiful dress, to which I would reply I had made it myself. My hair is also perfect and my shoes high fashion. Continue reading “The Stupids”