Today, I Have Swans

I hope nobody’s expecting great pictures, but today, I went to see the swans. ┬áToday, there are two more swans than there were, last time I was there, and they’re off the nest and swimming around. They’re domesticated swans, swimming in a man-made lake in the cemetery where one of my great-grandfathers is buried. (And

Writing, Community, and Critique

I live in a small town. It’s not the kind of small where everybody knows each other, but everybody knows everybody’s families. It’s the kind of small where they once paid to re-do a census, because they just couldn’t believe the town hadn’t grown. (It hadn’t.) The kind of small town where people are quick

Writing, Relationships, and Sex

This month I’ve been wrestling with the idea of sex in my novels. I’m not in a genre that has clear expectations for sex. It’s not Erotica (More Sex!) or Inspirational (Less sex!) so, the decision comes down to personal opinion and “What the story needs.” The issue never came up in my first novel.

I’d Tell You, But…

I’m not much for cemetery visiting and grave decorating. And I’m an introvert, so Memorial Day crowds do nothing for me. In general, if I’m going to go to a cemetery, it’ll be some other day, and usually in the morning, when things are quiet, and you’re not in any danger of running into some

Patriotic Holiday 21B

Here in the United States, people are just finishing up the Memorial Day weekend. Three days off (for those of us who believe in days off) and all the charred hot dogs and beer your distended stomach can hold. If you believe the department store ads, it’s a weekend of wholesome family fun, grilling, and

But is It Art?

I work with one of those creative types. Always fidgeting with something crafty. Suzy Home-maker putting flowers and bees on chairs and bookshelves. I keep running into that question: What is art? And it bounces around in my mind. There’s a part of me that thinks it’s wholly a matter of taste. Whatever makes you

Half-Plans and Roadmaps

I walked home today. All three miles. Uphill. In a sweltering desert of 98% humidity. Oh, okay. It was more like 74 degrees, and not too bad a day, but that’s still an accomplishment, and it still counts. I’m half-daydreaming about dropping my job and going on a road trip, and making some unfortunate person

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