writing book reviews, as a hopeful author

I always feel squeamish about reviewing the books I read. Unless I absolutely loved it, and intend to gush about it, most of the time I’ll just commit to the whole “if you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say anything at all” rule. 

week #6/52: cars in the city

You recognize a friend’s car when you see it, even if it’s just an ordinary black one, four-door sedan like any number of cars like it in this city. She and Jodie have the same model, because Amelia told her it was a good car. 

ripping off the little guy >:(

It’s what I had in mind, almost, but at the same time, it’s totally not. And these have me fuming: Kirkus Indie BlueInk Reviews Both venues are charging self-published authors several-hundred dollars for a review. As far as I know, publishers do not pay any 

week #5/52: the firelight

Matt always loved the fireplace. When Felicity was a baby, this is what he and Leila used to do, light a fire and spend the night sitting in front of it. He thought they both enjoyed it. She would talk, and he would listen, and 

week #4/52: the static

Every night, part of me says, find a day job. Find something responsible, teaching piano lessons, or audition for symphony work. Likely both if I want to support a family. The other part of me says responsible is the last thing I want to be. 

in case any of your husbands are tricksters like mine…

A warning for my gaming friends. Check this out. I came out of the shower, having left my game running while I was away. I kept clicking on the window, trying to make it do something… anything. I’m like, “What the hell, why is it 

putting my idealist hat on…

This post was inspired by Chuck Wendig’s “Why Your Self-Published Book May Suck a Bag of Dicks.” (Very funny, by the way – go have a read!) And I also have my indie author hat on today too, so this is what you get. I’m 

week #3/52: batteries not included

People were refusing to go out for New Year’s Eve this year – or at least some people were. Parties were being kept to small groups of friends, safe indoors, with candles and bottled water, canned goods and books to read. Maybe it was a 

a tiny (but amusing) little investigation

I saw someone talking about hit counts on another blog, and it got me curious about my own. This blog, total page views in six-ish years: 9,780. My Lakeside Heights story, total page views in less than three years: 351,356. Well, at least my fiction 

week #2/52: thanks for the pie

Then when no one was looking, he would write little notes for her in the margins of his newspaper, vague and secret communications between them, a whole conversation. They never wrote emails – too much for her husband to find – but they had these