Thursday, February 23, 2017

Little girls want to grow up to be...

  • intuitive forest witches
  • expert sword duelers
  • free mermaids
  • preeminent scholars
  • wandering tinkerers
  • strong blacksmiths
  • powerful diplomat
  • spiritual leader
  • ferocious pirates
  • first rate tree climbers
  • creek stompers
  • peaceful fishers
  • high priestesses
  • tenacious hunters
  • kind ostler
  • savvy merchant
  • fearless dragon rider
  • crafty court magicians
  • gallant troubadour 

Sunday, February 5, 2017

Blogging about purpose...

Hello ghost readers!

Check out this guest blog I wrote for Steve over at Shores of Night. I write about my favorite genre, Fantasy. Give Steve some love while you're there <3

Friday, February 3, 2017

In which our heroine is frustratingly honest about her life

And we find no laughter in her sorrow.

When we write fiction, how do we avoid writing our plots around our life? I am desperately fighting the urge to re-write my plot in a very final, disastrous way. Love of your life, fighting injustice together? Fuck it. She doesn't love you anymore. She's found another shinny thing and is done with your simple, boring, messy ways.

It's so hard to be a person right now, let alone write about my complicated, but desperately in-love heroines. This is one of the ways that poetry worked better for me.
Because I could just dig deep. Because the words were just me.

This prose shit is hard. Creating characters and stories outside of yourself is exciting, but it's so hard to make them their own creatures, to not accidentally slip into them.

Wednesday, July 27, 2016

Diary of a lost girl


Every year, with the best intentions...

I don't know why I think I will be a prolific blogger. Sometimes I have a lot to say about writing, other days I'm stuck in the cycle that seems to define so many 30 somethings: work, hobby, sleep, rinse, wash, repeat. It doesn't feel very... creatively fecund.

I also sustained minor brain damage and whiplash earlier this month, and have had difficulty reading and tracking across a page. So, I'm sure that didn't help.

I really enjoy writing prose. Not sure I ever thought I would say that. Random thoughts about writing prose:

  • I've worked in healthcare so long that I accidentally write passive sentences all the time and don't even realize I've done it.
  • I don't really give a shit about ending sentences in prepositions. It doesn't really bother me. Really.
  • I love sentence fragments, though!
  • I enjoy getting obsessively lost in worlds I've created and entirely in my own imagination, which I think must be what hubris feels like. Sorry, invisible spaghetti god.
Oh, I made myself a new writing room! My wife calls it my mancave, which amuses me. 

Anyway, I got into a fight with Abbey about how old I am tonight. It was mostly playful but she was right and I am a year older than I thought, and I may have cried a little bit on the way home. This undoubtedly brought me to the conclusion that I need to be writing more, because WHERE IS MY LIFE GOING??? IT IS JUST ESCAPING ME! Must write more. Must write more. Other people are having babies. I need to birth this trilogy, man. Or maybe it will end up just being one fuck all long ass book. Whatever! I live dangerously.

Next blog: coming sometime in the near future. Perhaps it will have content besides rambling. 

Peace out, friends. 

Sunday, April 10, 2016

April 10th, 2016

Three years ago it was thundering
like today
growling across the
grey, balding dome

We eat Frangelica monkey bread
forks sticky instead of fingers

and find warmth
in an embrace
that opens and closes this story
beside the aching spring clouds

April 9th, 2016

Let this be a lost day
the kind where coffee 
is hot, black, and unlimited
strap on some roller skates
and sweat until we forget words
and the complicated layers
of our misbegotten thirties