The Best Gift

e-syl-winter-snowshoe-dec.jpg

We’re in a field looking at Vermont’s impossibly green hills, sitting where generations of writers have come to learn the craft. Our instructor tells us she wants a short, short story about something that deeply affected us, told in the point of view of someone else. She says our work merely skirts human emotion and we must go deeper. “Try letting yourself out through another’s eyes.” (read more)

He was right. He was right.

 An orphaned moose calf eats lunch

An orphaned moose calf eats lunch

My husband tells that I’m trying to do too much. And someone at a library presentation recently asked me how I had time to write. Good question.

I thought I might journal my week, just to investigate the issue. Spoiler alert: my husband was right. He was right. 

MY WEEK:

Wildlife Research: I researched and gathered new wildlife information to enhance my Deadly Turn manuscript. (To be published in 2019.) Some  highlights . . . (read more)

Is the Cassandra Curse Still Operative? You Decide . . .

  Cassandra  by Anthony Frederick Augustus Sandys. Before 1904. Source: The Studio (October 1904): 13.  University of Toronto and Internet Archive

Cassandra by Anthony Frederick Augustus Sandys. Before 1904. Source: The Studio (October 1904): 13. University of Toronto and Internet Archive

Thinking about curses, modern and ancient.

It turned out to be a motivating week to return to the Cassandra Curse as I worked on my next novel, returning to the narrator who lives that curse. Named Cassandra Patton Conover, she avoids her first name, calling herself Patton. It doesn’t really work to avoid her first name because she has a job where no one seems to listen anyway. Read more . . .

Loons and Lakes; Laughter and Longing

 John Picken photo

John Picken photo

It’s that time of impending fall when young loons, not yet mated for life, gather in adolescent gangs around Maine’s lakes and ponds.  During the day they practice take-offs with flailing wings and loud inexpert splashing.  Some day, they will surprise themselves and actually lift off the rapidly chilling water, embracing their ancient migratory urges. At night their calls to absent parents and the lake’s night time sky are so loud they wake us even when dawn is a hint of gray.  Read more . . .