Tuesday, June 26, 2012


A reader once told me “You paint pictures with words.” It surprised me, for I had never thought of my writing that way before, and I had to give some thought as to how I managed to do that for her.

So I talked to several of my writer friends, asking them their process. I was amazed to find that we all did it differently (okay, keep in mind, this was years ago when I was still new to even being around other writers). One gal told me she would write during commercials of her favorite TV show. Another other said she wrote while her kids were at ballet or ball practice. Another said she’d hide in her bedroom and bar the door to write. One used a very detailed outline, knowing each step her character would take. Another said she wrote up pages of character charts, outlining the way they would speak, the decisions they would make, the choices that would propel them toward the resolution of the plot.

Knowing other methods helped me to understand my own writing process. And that I did it the hard way. Not out of choice, mind you, but just because it was the only way I could tell a story. I do start with a general outline, but the magic for me is in the process itself. In getting to know my characters through the story. In immersing myself in the world and fully visualizing being there. And so I have to have complete focus in order to write.

Many of my friends can teach other writers how to write. Me, I’m not so good at teaching. I just write. And it’s difficult for me to explain exactly how, because it’s such an organic process for me.

In THE LADY OF THE STORM, I wrote a scene involving a magical mountain, and in order to get it on paper, I had to be standing there myself, in that very moment:

   Gray clouds moved over the skies, covering the brief
morning sunshine, but even in that dimness the mountain
of crystal blazed, as if it possessed some inner light.
It sat in the middle of a field of tall grass, the enormous
base of it a cluster of square-shaped stones angling
inward toward the top into four-sided capped spires.
   “Oh, dear,” muttered Cecily.
   A river ran straight to the base of it, and they rode
parallel alongside. Belle snorted at the tall grass that
swished against her belly, the much taller Apollo
eyeing her with a merry gleam as he stepped lightly
over the growth.
   “Do you hear that?” asked Giles.
   Cecily cocked her head. The river gurgled beside
them, the grass rustled in the rising wind of the coming
storm, the leather of their saddles creaked, and from far
away, she could hear the faint sounds of the city. And
between and betwixt those soft noises shivered a song
that she couldn’t quite catch the tune of.
   “It’s the mountain,” she replied. “The crystal is

There’s no right or wrong way to write. It’s just whatever works for you. And for me, I don’t have a prayer of getting my reader to see what I’m writing unless I actually can see it myself. And even then, there’s no guarantee that I can connect with everyone’s inner vision.

Until Next Time,

PS. I was just notified that THE LADY OF THE STORM took first place in The Golden Quill contest. I’m honored to be chosen among such talented writers!

Friday, June 15, 2012


Many of you know that my son is a writer as well, and although all of his stories amaze me, this one I thought was particularly lovely for writers, so sharing it with you today.

Greetings From A Book
By Langdon Kennedy

         Hello. My name's The Adventures of The Silver Wizard, and I am a book. And I'd like to take this time to tell you what it's like to be a book. Bear with me, it will only take a moment.
       Now I suppose I could spend my time complaining. I could talk about the irritation of being left to become dusty. Dust is like dandruff to us. Please dust us from time to time, alright? I could talk about the scars that are tears in our pages. Or the broken spines that are like broken bones. Or perhaps a bent or torn cover that's like having your face mauled. Or perhaps the feeling of isolation under furniture instead of the camaraderie of brothers on a bookshelf? Could I mention the shame of being used to stop a door? But I'm not sure if complaining would do me any good. I'm not sure if you would listen.
          No. I should explain to you the best part of being a book. I should explain to you what being read is like. It is a beautiful experience. It is how we live. A book manifests when it is read into the human mind. The soul of the book enters the soul of the human mind. We live in there. The words in us become. Every concept is born, breathes in a way, until we experience a sort of rush like adrenaline as every part of us is brought to life. When your eyes pull a word from the page into your mind you pull us away from stasis into being. Like waking from a coma into a new life. I suppose it is difficult to explain to you humans the reincarnation that is being read.
       And each time it is different, because each human interprets us differently. And each time we are read, each time the words on our pages are born into a human mind, it is different, and we live an entirely new life. Though the words on our page are the same, that soul of us is the same, we are born again differently in you. Each and every one of you are different parents to us. 
      And even when the same people read us over again we are born differently. It's a magical feeling, really.
      I'm sorry if that rant was a little long, but I took this time to talk to you today to give you a little perspective. And to make sure you're a bit more considerate when you pick up your next book. Oh, and don't skim. It hurts our feelings.

The Adventures of The Silver Wizard
If you enjoyed Langdon's story, you can stop by and leave him a comment here: http://langdonflashfictions.blogspot.com/ 

Wednesday, June 6, 2012

Congrats to my winners!

Chosen by Random.org, cause I always want everyone to win, and would have a difficult time if I didn't have this nifty website to choose the winners for me!

8. Igna Jurevicius
13. infinitieh
26. Mary (email beginning with mcm917)
30. Eva

These ladies were the lucky recipients of an autographed book bag, with some extra goodies inside. Thanks to all my newsletter subscribers who entered and commented. MY READERS ROCK!