Why Do We Write?

  • March 13, 2017
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If there are a zillion writers, I’m sure there are a zillion answers to the question. I write because I get to play with the Universe. Create a universe. And it’s based on things I’ve experienced and seen and read and watched in other people. Because as far as I write against the grain, there are still inherent moments that come from the place of me.

Writing Roundup 2016

  • December 19, 2016
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It’s been an interesting year. I published my novel Magical Ties and my short story “In the Smoke” appeared in the anthology Smoke: Tales Between Dark and Light. Also, I copyedited a wonderful cookbook by Roberta Roberti, World Party: Vegetarian Appetizers, Hors d’oeuvres and Party Plates, and maintained my blog for the second year.

And yet, it feels like I did nothing. I know it’s not productive to look at other people, but to read that so-and-so wrote two novels in a year and a screenplay and trains beagles on the side…okay, that’s an exaggeration, but you get the idea. It seems like I should be doing more.

Why are we so hard on ourselves? Writing a novel is a long, grueling race, sometimes like running through molasses. And there’s no guarantee of any kind of success. Yet we write on.

The only thing to do is write.

Book two is percolating, leaving me multiple scenarios running through my mind and handwritten scraps of paper floating from surface to surface in the living room while a Word doc has scenes waiting to be placed in the right order. It’s filling me to the brim and very soon I’ll be sitting down and putting it all into a more coherent mess. I find that I miss the people and I’m looking forward to what happens to them in the new year.

I guess if the point of this year was to continue me into the next, pen and keyboard ready, that’s a better year than I thought.


It’s Here! Smoke: Tales Between Dark and Light

  • September 05, 2016
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Go to myBook.to/Smoke_Tales.


My story “In the Smoke,” was a stranger creation than I expected. I wrote some of it in a daze, fueled by blues music in the background. And only after it was completed and I reread it did I realize exactly what I had written about. (No, I’m not going to tell you. It will mean whatever you decide it will mean. That’s the joy of reading.)

May you emerge from the smoke into clarity and peace.


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