Since December 1st, I’ve been in edit mode. Sloppy edits, tight edits, spoken edits. Edit. Edit. Edit. Some days I’m editing edits of edits I thought I’d tightened up and could leave in the final draft pile. It’s all part of the process, and while it may not be the most glamorous, or best part of writing, it can still be fun. After all, things can still emerge about characters. For instance, each time I think I’ve sorted who is…
I have this little song I sing when I’m driving, it doesn’t have a particular tune that I could give you to sing it yourself, but it goes like this, “me in the middle..” Repeatedly, until I turn a corner. I sang this so much upon our return to the US that my family knew it was wise not to try and communicate with me when we were stopped at intersections because if they did I’d just sing this silly…
I have a great lovely entryway to my home. Now I don’t say this to boast or brag, but rather because it is of rather great importance to what I am about to tell you. You see, the entryway to my home is one of my favourite places, albeit rather small. The front door opens to a shiny lacquered wood floor. You can see that once the carpet likely extended a bit farther than it does today, although I am…
I sit on the sofa with my feet resting up on the arm. It’s a short sofa, and my legs are longer than most. I find myself distracted by the quilt that is thrown on the back of the sofa, someone has placed it upside down displaying the many wondrous flags of the 1860’s, and I wonder how many of those flags still look the same. I’m not left wondering on this topic for long though, as I catch movement…