My life, right now, is like a sucking black hole that devours all my good intentions, leaving me with nothing but gaping holes in my blog that stare at me and make me feel guilty like those bell-ringing Santas who I know are mentally heaping voodoo curses on me every time I walk by without
Such a loser. Me. Loser. Bad at this blogging thing. I tried setting up a schedule to encourage me to write more routinely. But here’s the problem: When you spend hours every day writing, and then more hours editing, carving out another 30 minutes to write a blog entry just manages to always find itself
I’m a researcher. I love doing research. I have to shut off my internet connection while I’m writing because if I don’t I might lose myself in researching some tidbit that has come up. It’s a sickness really. One of the ways I come up with story ideas is to surf wikipedia. I just go
Not a lot of news to report about The Deathday Letter. I finished the huge revisions and turned them in. Now I’m just waiting for the feedback. My beta readers liked it and my agent seems to like it. He’s been a little stingy on his comments since we sold it, so it’s a little
I listen to a surprising amount of Pat Benatar when I write. Pat, Aimee Mann, Dave Matthews, and The Kooks. Those are my go-to bands for writing. I’m not sure why. Probably because I’ve been listening to them so long that they sort of become white noise and let me focus. Right. Wednesday. Writing Tips.
Figured I’d check in since I’m busy trying to avoid work. Very sad that Michael Jackson died. His album, Thriller, was the first album I remember owning. And yes, I said album. Not tape, not CD, not MP3. Album. At least I didn’t say 8-track. I’ve bee reading Hannah Tinti’s The Good Thief, and really
Been busy reworking my outline. I had some moments of outline panic, but a nice chat with my fantastic editors cleared it all up. I’m not used to other people giving me their opinions on my work. It’s cool and strange and annoying. Yeah, I said it. Sometimes it can be annoying. But just because
It was about a year and a half ago that I decided to really take my writing seriously. I hadn’t written much in a couple of years and I was surprised by how terrible and out of practice I was. I’d sit for ten minutes trying to think of a word. That’s because writing is
That’s my new dog, Maxx. I was thinking about changing it to something like Percival or Gimpmeister Sir-runs-into-a-lot-of-trees, but I didn’t want to confuse him. He’s maybe the sweetest dog I’ve ever met. Of course, I’m biased, just like most parents are of their own ugly, drooly children. Maxx doesn’t drool though. Seriously, he’s awesome.
FYI, the first thing I realized is that my blog is OMG-BORING. I’ve hired someone less boring to post as me from now on. Bring in the dancing puppies! So this is the entry. This is the one where I look back on the start of this blog that no one reads and go, “Wowiee,