Grief.
It sucks. It’s completely unique. And it’s entirely one’s own. Or at least that’s what someone told me after my father died this summer.
Solitary. Maddening. Confusing. Frustrating. Depressing as all hell.
Grief is a form of madness. No …
Read More: GWP: Out Of The Abyss
I’m regressing.
Not in an evolutionary sense. I haven’t devolved into a little salamander mucking about in a bowl. Now that could be quite interesting. But no, I’m still a funny-looking girl who can sometimes be found soaking in her …
Read More: GWP: Writing On Empty
It’s funny how novels are started.
I’ve always wondered what drives writers to sit down and write that first sentence. Or to even turn on that computer.
For me, it was a lady punk rocker/law firm receptionist who told me …
Read More: GWP: SORRYEVERAFTER: The Punk Rocker Who Made Me Write
It almost feels like it happened a lifetime ago.
That day, I had two events I needed to attend. My childhood best friend’s wedding reception and my new punk rocker friend’s concert in the Mission.
And I hate wedding receptions. …
Read More: GWP 4: Black Magic – The Inferno of Joy
Oh, the literary agent.
Honestly, I don’t even know where to begin. Until recently, I would have done a different post altogether. But there you have it. Life happened.
Perhaps I should start at the beginning.
The question I get …
Read More: GWP: You Want Agent With That?
