I saw a Tweet the other day from Canadian author Andrew Pyper promoting a course he’s teaching on writing suspense and it reminded me of something.
Pyper
is a good writer. I’ve read some of his books before and he’s the kind of writer who has the skill and talent to write any genre he wants. Those are the kind of writers I like to read. But what his Tweet reminded me of is that for a romance writer such as myself, there are many little tricks in the suspense author’s bag that can be helpful to a writer like myself.
Currently I’m reading Don Winslow’s “Broken”, a collection of novellas based on his drug cartel fiction series that includes “The Power of The Dog”, “The Cartel” and “The Border”, all based on the Mexican drug war. I love Winslow’s books because they’re fast paced, very suspenseful and well written. He knows how to tell a good story, and that’s why I’m reading “Broken”. Read more
Category: on writing
Hiraeth
The Welsh word, hiraeth, is new to me. It is pronounced: here-eyeth, with a roll of the ‘r’ if one is so inclined and able. Scholars advise that translation of hiraeth to English is not definitive but I find that, with it’s varied and elusive definitions, hiraeth is the perfect word to describe my mood and mindset these days.
I have been a little off-kilter recently; easily distracted and anxious. My mother would have described this as feeling discombobulated. With higher than usual work stress, extended periods of isolation and our community being under the cloud of a worsening pandemic, my reactions seem logical and situational. Worry is a largely wasted emotion so I’m trying not to worry.
How Much Time Does it Take?
Today I turned 45. I didn’t know how old I was. My husband told me.
My-husband-told-me.
He’s 44, so by association, he knows I’m 45. I have a son turning 16 this summer and a daughter who is 14. I’ve got a 4 year old dog and an 8 week old puppy. The chicks in our barn are 5 days old and we’ve been living in our home since 2007. I have 3 more years to pay off my business loan and I started writing my first novel while I was on maternity leave with my son in 2005. Read more
Stepping Outside Your Comfort Zone
Today is Easter Monday. For some of us, that means it is a day just like any other; only you have a chocolate hangover to go with your early morning coffee. Other people get another day off to add to the already extra long weekend. I’m jealous.
Last week, Seana Moorhead wrote the blog post, The New Social Writer. If you didn’t get a chance to read it, go HERE. Seana talked about registering for an online leadership course that runs for a year, but they started with a two-day virtual retreat online together.
When I heard about this, I couldn’t help but smile. I, too, applied for a virtual writing retreat in early January with the #5amwritersclub on Twitter. I got in! I paid my fee, and then I started to panic.
My weekend retreat is all about writing, not leadership. Honestly, I’m quite worried about how it is going to go for me. I’m stepping way, way out of my comfort zone on this. I’m usually more of a loner when it comes to writing. Plus, I rarely share my work with anyone. I show my husband and possibly one other writer, but that’s it. I don’t want so many opinions on how shitty my work is that I get confused on how to fix it. Read more
The New Social Writer
I registered for an online course this year. It started with a 2 day virtual retreat since no one is meeting in person with the pandemic. I was apprehensive about spending two entire days on zoom and with a group of strangers. Craving to learn something new, I signed up. Thanks to the organizers, it turned out to be excellent complete with a scavenger hunt and learning how to make a new cocktail (neither actually related to the content of the course, but side benefits). And I realized how much I missed meeting new people during this past pandemic year.
I would describe myself as an introvert. I need time by myself and when I don’t get it, I get grumpy. And miserable. Most likely this is my subconscious attempt to make people go away so I can get my alone time. I’ve always liked the vision of the solitude author, hidden in a cabin and surrounded by trees and rocks, ideally near a lake, and no one in sight or hearing distance. Somedays, I hold onto that mirage like a thirty person in the desert.
Read moreSpring Seeds Stories
Where Do Our Stories Spring From?
Where do the ideas for novels and short stories come from? What tiny seed of inspiration sets off a whole new direction for a story?
As I write this blog, it’s the first day of spring, something we’ve aaaaall been waiting for.
On Narrowing Down Your Pursuit
Or, Why Writing Is Hard!
If someone is trying to solve a murder mystery, or even write one, they need to provide the suspect with three things. The suspect has to have means, motive, and opportunity.
When you’re writing, your work has to have a story to tell (means), it has to be told in a palatable way (motive), and it has to be made available to people to be read (opportunity).
And sadly, all three of these tasks fall, to a certain extent, under the heading of Read more
My Most Difficult Subject Yet
Lately, I’ve been thinking a lot about death and dying.
Mostly it’s because I’m starting a new romance novel that features a character who is a death doula (cue the jokes and the confusion about writing a romance novel around death, haha!). But I suppose it’s also because I’m in the latter half of my own life now and have elderly parents and in-laws, and so it seems like the right time to delve into this great and final mystery. Plus, I like to challenge my writer’s self with unusual topics.
There is another reason, too. Frankly, I’m a bit haunted.
A former colleague and friend died more than three years ago after a very sudden and short terminal cancer diagnosis. He was only in his early 50s, with two teenagers at home and a wife who was battling her own health issues. He didn’t want to go, understandably so. In the short time he had remaining after his diagnosis, he could not come to terms with his own dying. He became depressed. He cheated himself out of talking about it, of comforting his family, of allowing himself to be comforted, and of coming to some kind of peace with how his life was going to end. Things progressed so quickly, that my goodbye had to be in the form of an email that was read out loud to him. Read more