Pardon my silence on Tuesday, will you? It’s been a full-speed week as I prepare to leave today to visit someone special, and on the way, I’m going to be seeing another someone special. More on that later.
In other news, I’ve badgered Beth into letting me read some of her chapters. And they’re good, folks. Seriously. Witty and entertaining — everything I love in a book. I can’t wait to read more.
I’m also starting to get excited about the My Book Therapy Storycrafters’ Retreat. (more…)
I’ve always been a writer. From the moment I first wrapped my little fingers around a pencil, I’ve been scribbling thoughts and ideas. But I haven’t always written fiction. In fact, if you told me five years ago that I would write a novel (much less two), I would’ve smiled politely while thinking, Okay, freaky person.
I tried writing fiction when I was a kid. It wasn’t very good. I was smart enough to realize that. And when you grow up in a competitive family, you either get good at whatever it is you attempt or you find something you are good at. I didn’t know how to get better. And the one writing workshop I went to actually made it harder for me to write.
I figured it just wasn’t for me. So at the age of 10, I dumped fiction and focused on poetry. Poetry was good to me. People liked my poetry. It came easily, effortlessly.
And then, as with all great personal stories, things happened. (more…)