A woman writes for years alone in her room. Like Penelope, she weaves her stories in the day and rips them apart at night. She doesn’t tell anyone she is writing. This writer doesn’t imagine she will ever be published, but it doesn’t stop her from writing. Nothing stops her from writing
Last week I sat down to write about my Pitchwars experience. I wrote a charming piece about astronauts and optimism, about the random moon rover luck of landing at the right place at the right time. I had my pick of agents: everything was golden.
Here is my interview with the amazing Brenda Drake. Where would I be without Brenda Drake, Marty Mayberry and Pitchwars? Back in the slush pile of a a dozen agents, that's where
I've been nominated to take part in the triple seven challenge by fabulous NA author, Lucy Ledger. When I first received this challenge I mistaken believed that I would have to run a marathon on every continent or something. I should have known that writers never run anywhere.
I have my best writing ideas while I’m driving. Seventy miles an hour, full sunlight, no traffic. An idea will pop up like a billboard along the side of the road and I’ll follow it. Exit here
These are LBJ's bad-ass cowboy boots. Hand-stitched Lucchese. Like butter. I saw them when I went to tour the LBJ ranch in Johnson city