Tag Archives: Writing

January 13, 2024 · 12:22 pm

Starting 2024 with a cage match

I—somewhat foolishly, I admit—entered Pulp Literature’s First Page Cage contest. At the time, I used the deadline to spur me to the end of the manuscript, and I was pleased to make the long list. But I figured things wouldn’t go beyond that.

I was wrong.

I’m in the quarter-finals. In addition to the editor judges, there’s a readers’ choice component of the contest. I’m not sure why this surprises me since the contest is a cage match. This sort of thing is implied.

However, it did, and does. But if you’d like to read more and play along, you can do so here. Or, if you’re ready to head straight to the entries and voting, you can do that here.

And if you’re curious about what I’ve been working on these past several months (and why I’ve been so quiet), you can see that below.

The Pansy Paradox

A woman with nothing to hide—except the truth—meets a man with nothing to lose—except his heart. And he’s just arrived in town to fire her.

Meet Pansy Little …

Since her mother vanished, Apprentice Field Agent Pansy Little is the sole guardian of King’s End, protecting it from a supernatural force only a select few can see. The arrival of an agent from headquarters doesn’t bring relief. Instead, it means Pansy’s well-crafted charade is about to collapse.

Meet Henry Darnelle …

Principal Field Agent Henry Darnelle doesn’t want to be in King’s End, but he’s been blackmailed into performing Pansy’s field agent evaluation—with explicit instructions to fail her.

Distractedly handsome and unfailingly correct, he surprises Pansy—and himself—by defying orders to fire her. Instead, his curiosity is piqued by both Pansy and King’s End.

Together, they investigate, unearthing the intricate ties that bind their families. Together, they might even be falling in love.

But someone with a decades-old obsession is watching, maneuvering behind the scenes. This someone won’t rest until blood is spilled.

Welcome to King’s End, where discord falls from the sky and an eccentric twenty-something patrols the streets with her pink polka-dotted umbrella. Where one misstep won’t merely bring disaster—it might spark the end of the world.

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January 6, 2024 · 12:48 pm

Moon launch!

So, way back in the dark ages of 2021 (nearly three years ago now), I mentioned I was going to the moon. Or rather, my writing was. Now, the Peregrine Mission One with Astrobotic is about to launch, barring any delays. (Hey, it’s space travel; delays happen.)

To celebrate, Susan Kaye Quinn has published all the stories behind the stories headed to the moon. I’m #95 on the manifest, and you can read my story behind the story here.

I probably won’t be awake for the launch. Even so, I’m excited to head to the moon.

Edited to add: By all accounts, the launch was spectacular, but Peregrine developed a fuel leak and won’t be making it to the moon. My heart goes out to Astrobotic and the Peregrine team. However, as true scientists, they’re making the most of this situation. You can read the updates here.

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October 14, 2023 · 11:14 am

Autumn Story Round-up

It’s autumn story round-up time! I had a few stories come out, both new and reprints, during August and September, but clearly have been remiss in actually mentioning them.

Oddly enough, they’re all military-themed to some degree. I don’t often write about the military, so it’s weird these three stories hit all at once.

Steadfast in Does it Have Pockets

This is a reprint that first appeared in Flash Fiction Online. It is also a modern retelling of Hans Christian Andersen’s The Steadfast Tin Soldier, complete with a gender flip and unapologetic happy ending.

Rules of Engagement, second place prose (veteran) in the 2023 Col. Darron L. Wright Memorial Writing Awards from Line of Advance

New story alert! I won’t say much about this one, except the title is a play on words.

Field Manual for Waiting in Women on Writing 3rd Quarter 2023 Creative Nonfiction Contest

A reprint, but the first time you can read it online. Fair warning: this is a piece of creative nonfiction that involves grief. You can also read an interview I did with the editors at WOW, where we discuss, among other things, current writing projects and ghosts.

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August 27, 2023 · 12:15 pm

When life gives you broccoli

This is what it looks like when life gives you broccoli.

Broccoli and cat friends

Trust me, that’s a lot of broccoli.

I didn’t realize before I planted it this spring that broccoli can be a little fussy. It’s prone to bolting. (This always has me imagining the broccoli dashing through the yard—with me and the rabbits chasing behind.)

But! I somehow managed to get this crop and plenty of side shoots as well. We also planted bell peppers and fairy tale eggplant, which are coming in nicely and are very tasty.

Fairy tale eggplant, green bell peppers, and broccoli shoots

But back to that broccoli. I thought, why not make one of those salads Anno recommended on her blog a while back. I picked the one from Smitten Kitchen. However, after adding that ½ cup of dried cranberries, I immediately doubled it. (Why anyone thinks ½ cup of dried cranberries is enough is beyond me.)

But first, I had to chop, chop, chop the broccoli. Then, somehow, I had to keep on chop, chop, chopping the broccoli. It. Was. Endless. I felt like Emma from my story Flowers and Stones—I had an industrial-sized amount of florets by the time I was done.

And broccoli salad for a solid week.

I also planted kale, not that we’ve eaten any of it. The rabbits have also declined to eat it, as have the deer. Still, it continues to grow to spite us all.

In non-vegetable news:

I have ~65,000 words in my current manuscript. I think that’s halfway, more or less. Yes, it’s going to be a bigger book and possibly a series (or at least two books). I’m writing from the point of view of three different characters in this story. I’m doing it in present tense, first person POV; present tense, third person POV; and past tense, third person POV. I don’t necessarily recommend writing a story this way. Still, it’s how this particular story wants to be told.

In even more non-vegetable news:

I’m going to see Ann Patchett! She’s coming to town for Talking Volumes, an author series our local public radio station sponsors. I didn’t even know she was coming to town. One day in June, I wondered whether Talking Volumes had anyone interesting scheduled for the fall. So I decided to do a quick check.

Ahem. Anyone interesting, indeed.

The tickets for Ann Patchett had just gone on sale, were selling fast, and somehow, I snagged the last lone seat in the main orchestra section, row M, right in the center. It was like it was there, waiting for me.

I can’t wait. I just finished Tom Lake, I’m rereading Bel Canto, and I think I’ll move on to The Dutch House next. I even bought a new dress.

Although, I can’t help but wonder if Ann might like some broccoli. Because I could bring her some.

I have plenty.

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May 14, 2023 · 10:06 am

Of writing tears and garden friends

So, I’ve been on a patented Jo March writing tear (I really need to get a writing cap like Jo has). This is on the new book (series, duology—your guess is as good as mine) I mentioned a while back.

It is coming along, which is all I’m going to say at this point in the project.

Mattie and Oscar helping in the garden.

In other (wonderful) news: Spring. Has. Sprung.

We are planting, haphazardly, it’s true. Despite taking the master gardening course, I will most likely remain a haphazard gardener.

So, yes, that’s an entire flat of zinnias you see. No, I have no idea where I’m going to plant an entire flat of zinnias. It’s true our eyes are much bigger than our garden space.

Toad resting beneath an eggplant.
Squirrel despondent since I replaced the birdseed feeder with the hummingbird one.

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April 2, 2023 · 11:02 am

March: out like a lamb, an angry, angry lamb

The last day of March went something like this:

Lightning, thunder, rain, sleet, hail, snow, BLIZZARD.

Yes, an angry, angry lamb.

Angry lamb in blizzard generated from DALL·E

Then, yesterday, we had this:

Those lumps and stakes on the right? Those would be my raised beds, assuming they weren’t under another foot of snow. So, April Fools on us.

In other news, I might be writing a bit. Don’t want to say too much about it. Honestly, I’m not exactly sure what it is quite yet. One big book? A duology? A series? Your guess is as good as mine. (No, really. At this point, it is.)

But I suppose the snow is an excellent excuse to stay inside and read and write, no?

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March 19, 2023 · 2:35 pm

This winter: so very taxing

So yes, I fell off the blogging bandwagon.

More accurately, I fell off the blogging bandwagon, hit the slush-covered gravel road, rolled into a ditch, and then low-crawled until I found an abandoned fox den, where I proceeded to curl up and hibernate.

Just kidding. I didn’t actually hibernate.

Because neither does my new friend.

This little one has been hanging around our back deck, probably because that’s where the birdfeeders are.

He/she is highly skilled at finding everything the chickadees and squirrels leave behind.

And since opossums also eat ticks, I’m hoping this one sticks around for summer.

In other news, I have a drabble (a story that’s exactly 100 words, minus the title) in Issue 27 of Scribes*MICRO*Fiction. And They All Lived is not a fairy tale, but I think (hope) it’s a complete story.

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February 11, 2023 · 9:24 am

Thoughts on Bloganuary 2023 (also, work is a bear)

I’m so glad I did the challenge. So, so glad. Granted, I didn’t do it exactly as prescribed. But going into it, I knew I wouldn’t be able to.

There’s a difference between writing in a journal and shaping your thoughts so others can understand them. Obviously, you don’t have to share everything. But working through the prompts brought clarity to my thinking. Far more than I expected.

I want to keep blogging in this manner. It’s fun. I’m enjoying it.

However, a blog post a day—or even a prompt a day—is not sustainable. I’ve had to set aside other writing, and other things, to do this challenge. And it’s not so much the writing part; it is the shaping, the proofing, and the posting that takes time.

Also, a post a day leaves me little time to comment on other blogs. Part of the reason I did the challenge was to get back into both blogging and connecting with other bloggers. I want to make a concerted effort to reach out and comment more often.

The other reason for my lack of time is that work is a bear.

Just for fun, I submitted work is a bear as a prompt for DALL·E.

This accurately illustrates how I feel at the end of the day. Really, our AI overlords know far, far too much.

I’m trying to adjust and create a schedule that includes blogging, writing, and other things. It may take a few tries. In fact, I know it will. Still, I plan to be here on the blog more often, and I’m looking forward to visiting other blogs regularly.

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February 6, 2023 · 10:00 am

The story of our lives

Bloganuary: What would you title the chapters of your autobiography?

I’m not sure I would write my autobiography. (Isn’t that what a blog is for?) But if I did write one, I do know this about the chapter titles:

Puns would be involved.

I love puns and plays on words. If you’ve read any of my Coffee and Ghosts episodes, you already know that. Of course, it often takes me a long, long time to think them up. This is the reason Coffee and Ghosts is called Coffee and Ghosts.

Initially, this was the working title for the series. But when it came time to publish, I kept spinning my wheels for a better title. At last, I kept the working one because, if nothing else, it’s accurate.

Silliness aside, I am noodling a memoir. I almost hesitate to mention it because this might not come to pass. Every time I inch closer, I take a step back. This might be because I’m not ready to write it. It might be because I know it’s going to hurt.

But here’s the thing. I want to explain how caring for my mom during the last six months of her life was like being at war. It was like seeing the elephant all over again. I want to explain—if only to myself—why these two things are linked. Because somehow, they are linked in my mind and my heart. Maybe, if I can explain the why and the how behind that, I can help someone else.

But for now? I’ll simply ponder it.

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January 30, 2023 · 10:00 am

The stakes are a lie

Bloganuary: What’s a lie you tell yourself?

Well, this one’s a bit salty.

For me, it’s this idea that sometime in the misty future, I’ll be able to earn a living with my fiction writing.

This notion is so ingrained I’m not sure I can completely rid myself of it. But I’m trying to. Not because I dislike making money from my writing. I enjoy that.

But it was never my original motivation for writing fiction in the first place. I’ve been thinking a lot about this over the past several months. Interestingly, writing these prompts every morning has helped clarify some of the thinking, even those prompts that don’t relate to success or goals.

Or maybe especially those. It reminded me that I love to write. That my first motivation for doing so was to have stories I couldn’t find anywhere else.

When I started writing, I recognized the gap immediately. What I was writing did not match what I was reading in published novels. This frustrated me.

So I used publication as a way to gauge my progress. It was a great way to work with editors and learn.

At some point, instead of being a means to an end, publication became the end. Back in the days when traditional publishing ruled, the author with the most contracts (or awards or bestseller lists) won.

And I was—frankly—miserable. I maybe didn’t show it, but deep down, I was.

Then indie publishing came along. For a good couple of years, I had so much fun—again, learning and making progress. I love creating books, from the wispy first ideas to the finished project.

But then sales and money became the markers of success, to the point where it’s binary. If you aren’t earning “good money” (however you define that) with your writing, you should quit. Or at least, this is what it feels like. The notion permeates so many conversations about writing and publishing. It’s the water we swim in. (Which is why I’ve opted out of most of those conversations.)

For me, at least, it’s not a binary choice. Perhaps this is unique to American culture. But holy cats! We don’t need to monetize every last thing we do. Writing has worth. Whether you earn six figures from it or you simply blog for the joy of it.

I’m trying to unlearn this lie. And while I like it when people buy my books, it’s not why I write them.

So I’m searching for a new way forward. Perhaps, if I reach into the past and take the hand of the woman I once was, we can find our way into the future.

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