Sunday, April 29, 2012

Treasuring Creativity

Okay, I could barely finish reading the post of my guest this week without visualizing my treasure.  As a child, how did you save the things that were important to you?  How did you protect them?  How often did you go to those little treasures and touch, hold, or daydream about them.

This post inspired me to dust off my box and maybe add a few items.

Drop by Romancing the Pen, and read more about my guest--Lizzie Starr--and her box of treasure.




Just when Bryce decides to give up looking for the masked dancer who captured his heart and get on with his life, his darlin’ daughter climbs onto the lap of a captivating woman in a coffee shop and calls her Mommy. He certainly wouldn’t mind exploring the possibility.


Carrie’s vacation is over. Although she loves her job, she dreads returning. Especially when a blonde-haired cherub insists she’s ‘Mommy’. Add the girl’s intriguing father, and Carrie believes she’s finally ready for a real relationship. But memories of a horrific attack surface, bringing doubt and fear.


Then one of Bryce’s fathers is kidnapped by a cult. Not knowing if the abduction was of human or Fey origin, Bryce must chance seeming crazy and losing Carrie with tales of the Faerie Otherworld. Dare he take her to Faerie and declare his love—or are the forces aligning against them too much to overcome?

Saturday, April 21, 2012

Paris anyone?

I've traveled to a number of different countries, but I've never been to Paris, France.  It's on my list, and I truly hope to visit one day, but it seems my guest this week at Romancing the Pen loves Paris as much as I love Rome. (The stories I could tell.)

Join me and my guest as we discuss her latest book, Artful Dodging.

She might make you want to renew your passport, if you already haven't.


Blurb:

Waiting out the rain, Milo Everhart takes stock of her widowhood and the handsome man standing in the door to the bar.  Little does she know she will meet that man again and again under both passionate and terrifying circumstances.

Tristram Brody waits for his date, too conscious of the beautiful woman sitting by the door. Little does he know that she will hate him for trying to destroy her beloved art center, and even suspect him of murder. Nor that she will be drawn inevitably into his arms.

Little does either of them suspect they will be embroiled in not one, but two murders, in which the fate of the Torpedo Factory, an art center housed in an old munitions factory on the waterfront in Old Town Alexandria, will be decided.


Sunday, April 15, 2012

Friday, April 6, 2012

Rules for writing fiction


As written for The Guardian by Michael Morpurgo, author and playwright.

1 The prerequisite for me is to keep my well of ideas full. This means living as full and varied a life as possible, to have my antennae out all the time.

2 Ted Hughes gave me this advice and it works wonders: record moments, fleeting impressions, overheard dialogue, your own sadnesses and bewilderments and joys.

3 A notion for a story is for me a confluence of real events, historical perhaps, or from my own memory to create an exciting fusion.

4 It is the gestation time which counts.

5 Once the skeleton of the story is ready I begin talking about it, mostly to Clare, my wife, sounding her out.

6 By the time I sit down and face the blank page I am raring to go. I tell it as if I'm talking to my best friend or one of my grandchildren.

7 Once a chapter is scribbled down rough – I write very small so I don't have to turn the page and face the next empty one – Clare puts it on the word processor, prints it out, sometimes with her own comments added.

8 When I'm deep inside a story, ­living it as I write, I honestly don't know what will happen. I try not to dictate it, not to play God.

9 Once the book is finished in its first draft, I read it out loud to myself. How it sounds is hugely important.

10 With all editing, no matter how sensitive – and I've been very lucky here – I react sulkily at first, but then I settle down and get on with it, and a year later I have my book in my hand.