A Writer's Journal

A Writer's Journal

 

Over the past year, working on the second draft of my utopian novel, The Island, I've tried on at least five different endings. None really fit; none felt true.

And then this weekend, while raking leaves on my hillside, the ending popped into my mind, like a gift from the subconscious.
 

Unlike the others, this one fit immediately and perfectly, as if it had always been the only possible ending and I just now realized it--one of those “Ah-ha!” experiences where creativity is more discovery than invention.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 [First posted: October 21, 2013]

 

 

 


Preparing to send off the manuscript for Emily Hargraves to the publisher, I was encouraged to give it one final read-through. Good idea: I found a typo that neither I nor Spell-check had caught.

Mildred Whytecliff is a minor but important character in the story, a 76-year old nosy neighbor who has lived next door to the Hargraves most of her life. She is introduced to the reader at the beginning of Chapter 7:

Mildred Whytecliff was peering out her kitchen window.

Except I'd left off the “r” in peering—which gave Mildred’s character a whole new slant I never intended.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 [First posted: October 1, 2013]

 

 

 

This morning, sitting at my desk, I watch the hummingbirds outside my study window.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

They take turns, perching on the skeletal remains of a foxglove,
peering in at me.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I'd like to think that they're interested in my writing--

What's my new novel about?

Will it feature a hummingbird hero?

Would I consider it?--

 

 

 

 

 

 

 but I suspect they're really just wanting to stick close
to the feeder.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

[First posted: August 5, 2013]

 

 

 

 

 

 


Me: How was your weekend?

Co-worker: Fine. We went camping.
What did you do?

Me: I spent the weekend in Tokyo.

Co-worker:  ???

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 [First posted: July 24, 2013]