Category: blog

I know I wrote a whole lesson on this, but now I want to hear what you know, what you do, what you have discovered about dealing with the doubts that crop up.   You know the ones.  That story you wrote and loved suddenly appears to be pure, finger-down-the-throat, embarrassing garbage.  Yes, I’m talking about major doubt, the kind that stops you from writing. We’ve been writing

When I click the word “Guide” on my TV remote, I get a list of what program is on each channel. The descriptions are limited to one sentence per program. Sometimes they list the actors, sometimes not. Sometimes you get the year made, sometimes not. The descriptions are surreal. Last night I encountered this: Six cheerleaders lost in the woods must battle a time traveler wielding a magic

Which of the following is true? a. My keyboard has teeth. b. I only know what I know. c. Somebody let the cat out, and it wasn’t me. d. Plots woven around beetles are often weak.

The baby had been propped up on the porch swing in her first birthday dress. She scowled at the world, as if deciding to do exactly what she shouldn’t for her photograph. Her mother used the iPhone to take six pictures, but still the baby wouldn’t smile. She looked down at her pink dress and yanked on it. She blew a spit bubble. She kicked off one fringed

One of my favorite themes is how so often life pairs the mundane with the horrific. ~Have you ever found yourself sharing a big laugh at a funeral where you were actually shattered by the loss? ~Have you ever had a life-changing injury/surgery/accident that hinged on the change of one tiny detail in your life? ~Have you ever seen something amazingly monumental but been distracted by a very

I am currently in Yellowstone National Park in Wyoming, hundreds of miles from home. We drove. No Interstates. We passed multiple scary chicken containment buildings in Minnesota with cheery signs that said “Farm Fresh Eggs!” It seemed clear that the signs should have read, “Regional Chicken Prison System for Forced Egg Production.” We saw Sitting Bull’s grave and found out his Sioux name is really Tatanka Iyotake. His

The panhandler on the corner was well-disguised.  His tanned and leathery face featured an uncombed, four-inch, beard of brown and gray.  The front of his plaid cowboy shirt featured pearl snap buttons, but one pocket was half ripped off, and food stains darkened the area below his beard.  A dirty gray shoe lace held his long stringy hair off his face.  His jeans had stiff areas around the

Let’s all join together in congratulating FigMince on being published in the Door County, Wisconsin Peninsula Pulse where he was one of the winners of their annual writing competition.  Bravo, FigMince! It was fun for me, since as I was reading the piece (“Farewell Debut”) I kept thinking that I’d read the story before.  How could that be?  Where could I have read it?  At the end of

I like to do this every once in a while since it’s so easy to be writing along and suddenly realize your characters have drifted into stereotypes.  You can have a great plot, lots of events, super dialogue, and urgent tension, but if your bartender is the Sam Spade, your female character is Jane Eyre, and your hero-to-the-rescue is Gandolf the White, then it’s time to rethink.  They’re

The folks congregating at the Galumphing Booth at the Virtual State Fair are having a great time teasing each other and remembering the days when they sweated over a paragraph describing a burning candle.  They are meeting for a non-real-time reunion held to honor of the days when they all dipped a tentative toe in an imagined spot in cyberspace where words like bricolage, lousy first drafts, goofing