Tag Archives: novelist

Next Moves

Posted
Filed under Writing

I spend part of each day wandering, lost in my thoughts while I traipse atop a grand ridge. Sometimes in the cool of the morning mist or later in the sun-drenched heat of afternoon, but my favorite time to walk is when I catch the last burst before a dusky black lays upon the final moments of the day. There have been rattle snakes, coyotes, roadrunners and quail, even a bob cat, with multiple colonies of bunnies and an abundance of ground squirrels all passing along the foot path, but as I often stroll alone, I enjoy the company. Wandering is a common blog topic for me as I suppose like many writers I find the pedestrian occupation goes hand in hand with sorting out troublesome characters or plot lines or next moves.

Continue reading →

Wandering

Posted
Filed under Writing

Like most, I am enriched by words. Writing them, reading them, listening to and endlessly speaking them. Words arrive as gifts, born out of my imagination or within the printed material piled up throughout our home. In Kerri Andrews’ book, Wanderers, she wrote, “On foot, Woolf walks out into the fields and into her mind.” The two activities, walking and writing, mesh for me as well. Virginia Woolf cements the idea in her May 11, 1920 diary entry, “Directly one gets to work one is like a person walking, who has seen the country stretching out before.” On my daily wandering, I think endlessly about the characters dancing about in my head, as vividly as I sort out real-life dilemmas that need the same attention to pacing. Walking connects us to all that swirls about before pen hits paper or brush slides over canvas or spice gets sprinkled into the dish. Walking journeys us along the path inside and out. Books do too.

Continue reading →

A Writer’s Haunting

Posted
Filed under Writing

If, like me, you have an assortment of story rattling around in your head, it can be rather haunting until you have the whole of it out, out of your head that is. This particular story has been haunting me for a number of years, and despite the months I have tried to get it all out, there is more that needs to be sorted out. I am obsessed by two characters, who are flawed beyond hope, yet I can’t let them drown in their own misery. I keep rooting for them despite their own self-destructive antics. They are survivors. Jaded and scarred but survivors all the same. Tonight, let me introduce Mrs. Hendricks and Helen.

Continue reading →