Stuck in the Murky Middle (January Stuck Series Part 3 of 4)

The middle is that dangerous place for a writer of a novel-length work. There are just so many words needed to get you from your inciting incident to your climax and protagonist’s ultimate change. For many writers, the beginning is easy. You have a shiny idea that invigorates your creative energy. Scenes may be pouring

Stuck at the Start (January Stuck Series Part 2 of 4)

The blank page can be an intimidating thing. Or maybe you have such a great idea that you fear once you start writing it you’ll ruin it. Or you have so many ideas you can’t possibly decide which one to start with and so you don’t start any of them. Or maybe you’ve always wanted

Give Your Writing the Gift of Grace this Holiday Season

The holidays are upon us and with them come disruptions galore. We are busier this time of year squeezing in more parties and tree lightings and school holiday sing-alongs not to mention adding shopping and cookie baking and wrapping to our already busy schedules. Our writing time can often be the first thing to go

How Drafting and Revising Feel Different: The Clean House Edition

As I type this, we are having our house power washed. It feels like I’m inside a car wash while sitting at my desk. I don’t hate it. Power washing a home must be an inordinately satisfying job. You arrive and the walkway is darkened with years of baked in dirt. The fascia is dull.

New Year, New Goals

Happy New Year! Despite proclaiming to not set resolutions I will most certainly fail at for the new year, I do still do a fair bit of planning. I like to have goals to work towards, even if they change throughout the year. Last year, however, coming out of 2020, I wanted to be gentle

A Fresh Coat of Paint

Earlier this year, I delivered my latest draft to my beta readers. And I exhaled. The pressure of the edit was over. My words in someone else’s hands. The stress was still there, don’t get me wrong. My words were in someone else’s hands. Ack! But I had no control over those words anymore. And

The Story of the Shells

On the left hand corner of my desk in a small, glossy, eggshell-colored bowl, rest a pile of shells. These shells are remnants, pieces of larger shells, worn down fragments that tumbled and swirled along the ocean floor for months, years, decades maybe. They are flattened like Play-Doh, smooth like stones. They are striped in

The End

I typed the words “The End” in the middle of a page with blank space below it. No new chapters. The words were done. The story complete. Well, complete for now. Step one, rough draft? Check. Notice I call it a rough draft, not even a first draft yet (not even close). Now the hard