So this is what I did today: As you can see, it hasn’t just been all fun and games and men in people’s nostrils. Bill still won’t let me talk to people, since I have 100 pages or so to edit. But this latest and near final draft is limping to that great finish line…
I can’t remember who said it, but I read an author’s story, years ago, of how he kept motivated by making space for his as-yet-unpublished book on the bookstore shelves when he visited. He’d push aside the books to either side of the spot where his would go and just place his finger there for…
A quick public service announcement to say that we’ve hit 190 and counting on the short story that has grown and grown like a force-fed chicken. Or a weed, for you vegetarians. And by ‘we’ I mean me, of course, and my agent, Bill, who has been holding a sawed-off shotgun at my head for…
So the next batch of manuscripts have been sent off to the First Readers — I’m at the 150 page mark. It’s a little like painting a room. You put on the first coat. Take a break for lunch, let that first coat dry. Put on the second coat on one wall. Notice a spot…
So for the last… well, a long time. In February, 2011, after finishing the first draft of a novel entitled “Rudyard Kipling’s Chair” which is still sitting in a desk drawer somewhere, unwieldy and cumbersome and full of far too many characters and subplots, I was taking a break. Like practicing crop rotation for the…
As an extra special treat, while I’m deep in the throes of editing the latest draft of Butterfly and not allowed out of the house except for pee breaks*, I thought I’d share a picture of a three decker in Worcester, which may or may not have something to do with the book. And now…
The words “The End” have not yet been written, but a certain goal’s been reached, anyway. Progress. Update: The words “The End” have been written.