Busy couple of days.  Writing, but also just catching up on some things.  It was finally warm enough yesterday to break out a dress, but my legs looked so pasty I probably blinded someone.  True, I hide from the sun—but I also don’t tan.  … [Read more...]

Some more information about the upcoming anthologies I’m in.  I don’t know when the last two will be released, though I can guess.  But look at those writers!  Man, oh, man.  WILD THING - May 2007 - Maggie Shayne - Alyssa Day - Meljean … [Read more...]

“If I lose the light of the sun, I will write by candlelight, moonlight, no light.  If I lose paper and ink, I will write in blood on forgotten walls.  I will write always.  I will capture nights all over the world and bring them to you.” … [Read more...]

From Letters to a Young Poet by Ranier Maria Rilke:  No one can advise you or help you - no one. There is only one thing you should do. Go into yourself. Find out the reason that commands you to write; see whether it has spread its roots into the very depths of your heart; … [Read more...]

Subject line of this blog entry = actual title of a book, written in all its fantastic thrillerish glory by Robert Crais.  It’s the first in a series about a detective named Elvis Cole.  Love it.  Am hooked.  Have just spent way too much money on Amazon … [Read more...]

From Ozma of Oz: The Princess looked at her more closely. “Tell me, she resumed, “are you of royal blood?” “Better than that, ma’am,” said Dorothy.  “I came from Kansas.” I don’t why, but I get tickled every time … [Read more...]

I’m writing a short story about a honeymoon.  Been listening to a lot of Aaron Neville.  Also had lyrics and lines and poetry rolling through my brain.  Like this, from Romeo and Juliet: Amen, amen! but come what sorrow can, It cannot countervail the … [Read more...]

omphaloskepsis (om-fuh-lo-SKEP-sis) noun: contemplation of one’s navel. *** D. H. Lawrence, 1912: “Curse the blasted, jelly-boned swines, the slimy, the belly-wriggling invertebrates, the miserable soddingrotters, the flaming sods, the sniveling, dribbling, … [Read more...]

Late autumn, in southern Illinois and Indiana, is when the persimmon trees hang heavy with luscious fruit ready for picking: soft and squashy—dead ripe. Then we not only eat them raw but we have those rare treats: persimmon pudding, persimmon pie, and upside-down cake … [Read more...]

“It is with words as with sunbeams. The more they are condensed, the deeper they burn.” —Robert Southey Honestly, I don’t work at my desk.  There’s never any room for me.  … [Read more...]