Re-Entry
Even so, I managed to sneak in a little writing and a lot of editing. The final galleys of BRENTWOOD'S WARD are off to the printer. I noticed the paperback version is currently on sale as a pre-order for $11.70 at Amazon, so if you're a hard copy kind of person, you might want to toodle over there (though it won't be mailed out until Jan. 1).
And Writer Off the Leash: Growing in the Writing Craft is just about ready to send out for endorsements. Launch date is Feb. 1. Here's a blurb to whet your appetite:
You are the ultimate master of your writing success, namely by writing. That’s it. That simple. Anyone saying anything else is a snake oil salesman.
Are you a writer at heart? How can you tell? And if you are, how do you go about composing and selling the next Great American Novel?
WRITER OFF THE LEASH answers these questions and more—all in an easy to understand, tongue-in-cheek style. This is more than a how-to book. It’s a kick in the pants for anyone who wants to write but is stymied by fear, doubt, or simply doesn’t know how to take their writing to the next level.
While it's been interesting to visit the land of analytical fact writing, it kind of hurt my brain. My next writing venture will definitely be fiction. Here are a few pictures I took in England that have story possibilities . . .
Look through the window. The opposite building was a bit decrepit. Dead vines on the brick. Smudgy windows. What might a character see in that neighboring home if she peeked out on a moonlit evening? A candle through the glass illuminating a face? What kind of face?
Or here's another one . . .
That little building atop the bridge is a toll house, where the bridgekeeper lived with his family, receiving fees from people crossing the bridge. Who might show up on a stormy evening? Was his family happy there? What kind of relationship did they have with the villagers on the other side of the bridge?
So many ideas, so little time.
And speaking of time, I suppose I should fire up the ol' washing machine instead of my imagination. Yeah. Re-entry is rough.
Look through the window. The opposite building was a bit decrepit. Dead vines on the brick. Smudgy windows. What might a character see in that neighboring home if she peeked out on a moonlit evening? A candle through the glass illuminating a face? What kind of face?
Or here's another one . . .
That little building atop the bridge is a toll house, where the bridgekeeper lived with his family, receiving fees from people crossing the bridge. Who might show up on a stormy evening? Was his family happy there? What kind of relationship did they have with the villagers on the other side of the bridge?
So many ideas, so little time.
And speaking of time, I suppose I should fire up the ol' washing machine instead of my imagination. Yeah. Re-entry is rough.