There are no easy methods of learning difficult things; the method is to close your door, give out that you are not at home, and work. ~Joseph de Maistre, French moralist and philosopher
“They” say once you’ve written one book, it’s easy to write another.
Don’t believe them … they lie.
A pessimist sees only the dark side of the clouds, and mopes; a philosopher sees both sides, and shrugs; an optimist doesn’t see the clouds at all — he’s walking on them. ~Leonard Louis Levinson, author
Always hanging over us
Ever changing appearance
Foggy mornings with dew
Healing for our moods.
I often glance upward
Just to see the skies
Kind of a pasttime
Looking at the sunrise.
My search is rewarded
Now with this scene
Of sunlight diffused
Prisms that gleam.
Queer the fuss we make over
Retrograding Mercury and
Sporadic solar eclipses
That prompt us all to look
We realize that once again
Xtremes of nature
Yell loudly while the commonplace
Zips along unnoticed.
Note: This is a poetic form known as the A-B-C Poem. First one I’ve ever tried, and it was harder than I expected!
The lovely poetess/fantasy author Cynthia Morgan of BooknVolume has graciously offered to put me and my soon-to-be-published novel Unplayable Lie in her author spotlight today.
Thank you, Morgan!!
Please hop over to read our interview and leave us a comment. When you’re done, hang around a bit and enjoy Morgan’s golden pen — you won’t be disappointed.
Once again, thanks to all of YOU for being such loyal, supportive readers and friends!!
Every writer I know has trouble writing. ~Joseph Heller, American author
Not so long ago, I thought writing a novel would be the hard part.
Struggling to make sense of varied plot lines, fleshing out believable characters, choosing a point of view to tell the story from, and tying up loose ends felt like a mountain to climb.
And there were all those rules.
In literature, when nine hundred and ninety-nine souls ignore you, but the thousandth buys your work, or at least borrows it — that is called enormous popularity. ~Arnold Bennett (1867–1931), English writer
You could have knocked me over with a feather the day I learned somebody wanted to publish my book.
Kids today have it so good.
To touch a key and have letters and words magically appear on a screen, then to be able to Find and Replace at will, to Cut and Paste whole paragraphs instantly, to delete entire pages, to Save to the Cloud….
There is no greater agony than bearing an untold story inside you. ~Maya Angelou, American poet and civil rights activist
When you tell someone you’re a writer, invariably you’re asked what you’re working on right now.
A vague response doesn’t cut it. They want details — lots of them — and many are quick to offer “helpful” suggestions for plot points, characters, settings, whatever.
If you’ve read this blog long enough, you know I’m not a fan of my own name.
As a journalist, “Debbie” worked. She was solid, dependable, factual. Printed alongside my last name, “Debbie” made a nice-looking byline.
But as a fiction writer? One who kills off characters and spins imaginary tales?
I think not.
Wheresoever you go, go with all your heart. ~Confucius
Me and Erin are doing okay
We stumbled on this nice little town
With free hot dinners and a bed.
No need to hoard cardboard or shopping carts
No need to fight driving rain and blazing heat
Or sleep with our eyes open for protection.
Yeah, we’re doing just fine.
You know that bicycle I used to ride?
I traded it for Erin a couple months ago.
She was with some other guy, but he wanted to make tracks
And Erin was just an inconvenience. Crazy, huh?
As soon as I saw her, I knew she was the gal for me.
Long silky red hair, eyes the color of honeyed copper.
Eyes you can practically drown in, they’re so full.
When I left, I didn’t know where I was headed.
Figured I’d just ride until I found myself
Or got bored, whichever came first.
Now that Erin is traveling with me, I’m learning responsibility.
We share everything — food, water, bed, laughs.
Whoever says a homeless person doesn’t need a dog
Just doesn’t know anything about me … or Erin.
So me and Erin are doing okay.
It’s not the life you dreamed of for me
But freedom is more important than wearing a suit and tie,
Punching a time clock, running the rat race.
There are places to see, people to talk to
And we only got one shot to do it all in anyway.
At least me and Erin got each other now.
Note: This was inspired — and fictionalized — from something I saw recently.