Tag: practice novel

day 7: house-sized sinkholes in the road

Last night I was raving to myself about how much I loved my chapter in part five (is that weird? lol), the one I wrote about yesterday, and I actually wrote down in my journal that I loved it so much I would write my 

day 6: a green block

Dylan is holding a red block, with a green block snapped on top. I wonder what he imagines it is? It might be a car, or a space ship, or a boat… we play this game sometimes. “What is it?” I ask. He says, very 

day 4: be less ordinary

A couple days ago, hubby and I had a five-hour discussion about what makes a story ordinary vs. interesting. Quirky vs. “pedestrian” (his word ;)). As a writer, I generally shy away from taking risks. I keep my characters safe. I don’t allow them to 

day 3: open office rocks!

So the first half of yesterday I spent having a five-hour conversation with hubby about what makes a story interesting vs. ordinary (I meant to blog about that today, but I’ll blog about that tomorrow instead, as I have some novel words to catch up 

day 2: men, a character study

Men: they don’t say what they want or need, don’t say what they’re thinking unless you ask, and not even then sometimes. Instead, they just frump around acting all moody and sorry-for-themselves, because they expected you to read their mind, and then were disappointed when 

NaNoWriMo/NaBloPoMo, you want me to what???

NaNoWriMo NaBloPoMo It might seem crazy and counterintuitive to try to do both, but the way I figure, if I’m going to be going novel-writing crazy, I might as well spew it into my blog, thus accomplishing both goals? And raise a brilliant and well-adjusted 

friday, in the other dimensions

Just so you know, if you leave your journal out on the dining room table, the journal you’ve been keeping for two years, and you then leave the room, your toddler will take a crayon to it. He will scribble all over several of the 

quarterlife wisdom

I love that I still have all my old journals and blog entries, dating back to when I was about nineteen. I’m writing a novel about this very particular age, between 18 and 24, when you’re absolutely not a child anymore, and so very barely 

friday update, on a monday

not a writer: Just this week I remembered this really twisted and fascinating French film I saw years and years ago, Jeux D’Enfants (Love Me If You Dare). Trailer here. Remembering this movie makes me want to add some of these kind of mischievous games 

here I am, treading on your brain

not a novelist: writer talk Found! Superhero Nation: focuses on comic/fantasy/superhero writing, but has lots of great general writing advice. I particularly like the series of common first-time novelist mistakes. And the Mary Sue test, because my characters tend to be too sweet/good/unflawed. So after