Now Winter Has Come
This morning, in Denver, it was minus eight degrees. Surely, winter. I reminded myself, “If Winter comes, can Spring be far behind?”.
This morning, in Denver, it was minus eight degrees. Surely, winter. I reminded myself, “If Winter comes, can Spring be far behind?”.
It’s a new year so here’s an old story about the town where I live in Colorado and one of my books which is set there.
A 19th-century fact, written down by my grandmother in 1939, edited by my twin sister in 1978, written into my fiction in 2024. My way of organizing the past into a contemporary fictional narrative.
Sometimes, living in a forest as I do, I get a glimpse of nature in all its living beauty, its calming beauty.
I’m sure I’m preaching to the choir here when I speak of the pleasures of reading. But perhaps not enough is said about the pleasure of re-reading.
Among Friends is “a history of an industry transformed by consolidation and shifting tastes.” I have been part of that industry since 1968, when my first book, Things That Sometimes Happen, was accepted for publication.
If people cannot be taught or experience how to express their feelings, frustrations, and conflicts with words, they will find ways—destructive ways—to express their emotions.
Here’s a mordant question. What happens to a writer’s work when she/he passes on?
You may not know it but there is such a thing as the “Golden Ratio,” which suggests the best way to create a written page layout.
There are many skills that professional writers have to master. But one of the skills a writer must master is one that I don’t think is often mentioned: waiting.