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]