Monthly Archives: March 2022

The Elephant in the Writing Room: Avoidance

It wasn’t my conscious intention at the outset to draft the writing elephant in the room, but that was what I did. Case of the Deadly Stroll was, on the surface, a fantasy noir mystery. A layer down, it was … Continue reading

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Waves

Waves descending, crashing as darkness on her mind, as despair, an unwanted episode she wouldn’t tolerate, not again, not ever again, not if she could help it, and oh how she could help it. Waves approaching, promising stillness, whispering peace, … Continue reading

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Signposts

Looking back, she could see the truth, see where she began to come undone, spending too much time wondering why others walked a road with preset signposts when her road had none. No signposts and no destination, she came to … Continue reading

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Choosing a Backstory Course

I hold to the belief that each book is different and I must adapt, not the other way around. Time has reinforced that belief as it applies to all aspects of drafting and revising. For instance, and most important, the … Continue reading

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Her Before

Before the night she died, she sat up late wondering at her hope for the future. The night before. Before she was thrust onto the table and her future bled out. Before her breath was stolen, she’d huddled beneath a … Continue reading

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Knowing Where to Look

Years became decades, empty steps on empty roads searching for her lost self, tear-filled breakdowns on a loop turning backwards, checking unwelcoming doors that refused to help. Doors became barriers, each voice on the other side new hatreds to endure, … Continue reading

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Not All Doubt is Created Equal

Typically, I have no idea what my topic will be the following week, life having a way of providing the topic. Tuesdays I draft, Wednesdays I edit and upload. This week I’m doing it all on Wednesday because on Tuesday … Continue reading

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The Way Home

In a storm of infinite chaos, she was who she was, but didn’t know who she was. She knew honesty, knew the truth. She wasn’t being honest with herself. Beneath the intimate fears, she knew she was a she, a … Continue reading

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Candles Standing

She knelt, candles standing, books animated in life, imagination melting in candle wax, each flame was a new chronicle in her hands, the fire wanting to sear her soul before phosphorescence broke down the door. She winced, candles still standing, … Continue reading

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The Voice You Can Least Fake

Secrets. The topic could swell to book-size. In truth, they contribute to the tension in many novels, sometimes ruling them. Secrets are a powerful force, for better or worse, but not all of them are created equal. Some secrets fade … Continue reading

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