There are times in our lives when we will come up against naysayers, the ones that want to shoot us down, those that believe we have no right to be where we are. For the most part, these people will be those who we don’t know from a bar of soap, and will likely be the ones to give a writer a negative review. Some will veil personal attacks under the guise of trying to better things for all, but you know the truth. They’re there, so we have to accept it. And for those wanting to be professional writers, criticism is just part of the journey.Read More
Editing... The dreaded beast seems to have come to haunt me again. Just when I thought I had finished with this manuscript, there it is again. The revisions just go on, and on, and on, and on... Did I mention that they go on and on?
When you're writing, it's the inner critic that whispers sweet little nothings about self-doubt that just won't go away. If you're anything like me, you type so fast that sometimes your brain struggles to keep up; the spelling goes out the window and the autocorrect monster just gobbles up that carefully chosen word... without you noticing!
But the editor in me can't just let a new piece of writing go unchecked. I always go back and reread what I had written after a break (even a break as short as a toilet break). I see the punctuation errors, the grammar flaws, and the faults in the writing itself. I struggle in a big way to shut off the editor brain long enough to actually do any writing.
It’s the life of every working mother, to become the taxi driver. Let’s face it, my son is currently 14, a freshman in high school, and fills his free time with swimming training, archery and scouts, and of course computer games, but I’m not going to talk about those. My 10-year-old daughter, just starting junior high, does ballet, contemporary, scouts, art, kapahaka, and until recently guitar and swimming. And this says nothing of my own activities: writers’ groups, committee meetings, scout leader… (Wait… I’m not a scout leader anymore. I have my Thursday nights back, but I’m sure I’m missing something.) There are days when I don’t know whether I’m coming or going.Read More
A recent conversation with a close friend of mine (the godmother for my children) started me thinking about the decisions I’ve made in life and wondered why those decisions were made. I don’t think about this wondering if any other choices could have existed — in truth, I feel that my current path was always meant to be my path — but why do I feel so free making a life-changing decision that others find so difficult? Why did I quit my 9-to-5 job and decide to become a full-time writer and freelance editor?Read More
Years ago, in a critique of one of my fictional works, a major plot hole was pointed out to me that involved toileting of all things. You read that right, folks. I had an issue related to the poohs and wees.
So here’s the scenario: two warriors were being held prisoner, their hands and feet bound. Within the original story timeline, they were bound for two weeks, but at least were feed and watered. Not once did the narrative mention anything about the characters being allowed to relieve themselves.