Tag Archives: Writing

The Boy Who Lived: Lessons learned from JK Rowling

Rejected 12 times, and goes on to make more than the gross national product of Bolivia. Well, that’s one lesson JK Rowling taught me. And her rejections seemed lukewarm if not benign: “It’s far too long for children,” (Harry Potter … Continue reading

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The Much Reviled Revisions: How and why they’re necessary for a much better story

OKAY. I ADMIT it. Revisions are killing me. And there’s a lot of other crap going on in my life that’s making me want to pull my hair out (check that–there’s a lot of stuff going on in my life … Continue reading

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Brains, Bling & Booze: Chasing a hot Scot at RWA National

SO, IT WAS writer buddy Irene Preston’s call to arms that I went down to attend at least part of this year’s Romance Writer’s of America Conference in Alamo City, as opposed to Hawaii, Florida and even New York City, where you’d … Continue reading

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Rednecks: You can dress ‘em up, take ‘em out but in the end, they’re still rednecks

MY DADDY USED  to say that you should never try to teach a pig to sing—it wastes your time and annoys the pig. The same can be said about attempting to tame a redneck—it’s possible, but it’s going to take … Continue reading

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Forget Butt Dialing–Beware of Drunk Buying: And a salute to Jenny Lawson

BECAUSE I’M SUPPOSED to be writing, I of course, wondered what people buy online when they’re drunk. And I have to tell you, what I found is AWESOME. Of course, I’d buy this stuff stone cold sober, as does one … Continue reading

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Chap fell in the river. Again. Happy happy Fish Fry.

SO, THE QUEST for Annual Opa’s Fish Fry (celebrating his 91st birthday) is well underway, so we’re fishing. Every frigging day. The dogs are loving it . . . And so is Opa. And because he’s here, he’s running the … Continue reading

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Why do deer play? Because they can…

YESTERDAY AFTERNOON, I was playing with the dogs down by the river, when across the cove, a yearling deer came down the hill and stood and stared at me. She was with three other deer, who couldn’t have cared less. … Continue reading

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