Tag Archives: author

Home again, home again.


Well, I’m back. I knew you missed me. And after three days of learning plot, structure, and character development, well, I’m ready to jump into my novel-writing! After a much-needed (though I didn’t realize that I needed it til about yesterday) break from real life, I headed back to my home, the planning and life that needs my attention. My phone has rung three times since leaving the resort. And I’m realizing that nonexistent cell reception is AMAZING! I love my friends, and I love my family, and I love spending time with them…. but glory… After not talking to anyone on the phone for three days, well… let’s just say I noticed a definite rise in my stress level when that first phonecall came right after leaving the conference. I’m thinking about turning off my phone at night, too. I would love to try getting back some of that peace I’ve been feeling, without the added pressure of making sure I answer my phone.

Granted, having a phone as a work necessity is something I truly understand.

But guys, this week away from my phone was so nice.

Maybe I just need to take an occasional two day vow of silence.

Shhhhhhhhh…. 🙂

And she’s off.


To a writing conference this weekend!

I’m blaming the fact that I haven’t been posting consistently — and that I haven’t been making some amazing-looking Panda Bread — on the fact that I’ve been spending my writing braincells on pounding out a book to work on during the conference. Well, it’s not quite a book. At the moment it’s half in my head and half a clumsily-written story. It wants to be a book. And maybe it will be someday. But right now, it’s more just a project. An ugly, messy, barely-English project. But these things always look grossest before they can become the lovely vision in your head. And it’s pretty gross right now. I’ve done most of my research. However, the main character still hasn’t decided what she’s up to at the moment, so I’ve got figure out what that extra nudge will be to send her into the adventure. But we’ll get there soon. I can feel it.

Until then, I’m getting ready to head off to the conference. Which is being held at a castle. Yes. You read right. A castle.


Don’t believe me?

Enjoy the view below. 🙂



The Castle.


Writing fiction.


In my attempt to write a novel, I’ve started probably about, oh, nine or ten. I’ve finished none of them. One of the challenges I’m constantly faced with is to make my stories less autobiographical. But now I’m thinking maybe it might be an advantage to have a little bit of my own life as an influence. After reading this article about Georgina Bloomberg, daughter of New York City Mayor Michael Bloomberg, it looks like maybe having some “extreme real life content” might help market a book. After all, sometimes truth is stranger than fiction.

But maybe it would help even more if I were the daughter of a billionaire. Yes. I like that idea quite a lot.

My cat says, “Hello.”


To kick things off this weekend, I developed allergies, which developed into a cold, which is at the moment attempting to turn into bronchitis. Therefore, I’m currently quarantined in my room, visited only by the cat, who just likes to sit and feel superior to all human beings. Especially sick and helpless ones. She likes to sit on the tallest thing in the room and stare down at those below. There’s really nothing that tall in this room, so she’s settled on sitting on top of my computer. She knows if she sits on the keyboard, she can command all attention in the room. The standard attention consists of a swat on her tail. She also considers herself to be somewhat of an author – when swatted off the keyboard, she likes to leave little messages behind. For example, today she wrote the following:

iodeidlxcikps’l  bpowier o[wkr  ;po2Q{ “{PO LP”[O}

I told her I think it’s her best work yet.

The look on her face tells me she knows. She’s aware what tickles the fancy of the lowly masses.

The Author exhibiting her primary "typing position."

She has now thrown herself across the nicely placed notecards I lined up for the structure of my perpetual novel. She evidently likes them arranged her way much better.