Tuesday, January 9, 2018
My short story Afterimage has found a home. Danforth Review is featuring this story and several others as of January 6th, 2018. The link to Afterimage will let read this rather dark short story. I am quite proud of Afterimage because I certainly struggled to get it 'right'.
Friday, January 5, 2018
Saturday, December 16, 2017
This short story, Winter Count, was written a number of years ago. I had attended a gun show and ended up talking with a fellow named Rolland who was involved in the fur trade. One thing led to another and Winter Count was the resulting story. I put it aside. I could not imagine that such a story would find a market. It was, after all, old. It had an old person, an old problem and was about an old profession. The modern world could hardly be interested in this. Obviously I got over my reluctance and I sent it out to a few markets including the MFA program at Converse College in South Carolina. They loved it. Who would have believed it? Not me! You can read my short story with this link. Winter Count at South 85 Journal
|Coyote on the hunt|
Thursday, December 7, 2017
It's a very unique market, in fact, so unique that most people haven't heard of story dispensing machines. But with the hard work of an Alberta writer, there is one of these machines at Edmonton Airport. One of my short stories is included. Eggs Zackly is flash fiction, in this case, under 500 words. Sorry there is no link that I can give you to read this story. It's different, but it's another publishing credit. Onward
Tuesday, October 24, 2017
I got an email from a new acquaintance. She’d given me her address this past summer and I wrote a note just to say hi. In my email, I told her that I write, and gave the address to one of my blogs. FYI the three blogs are linked to one another, so I usually give people my lizbetz address.
In her response email, she joked that since she now knew I was a writer, she’d have to make sure of her spelling and grammar. Well. This did remind me of something that I’ve sensed. Or imagined. People behave a little differently around you when they know you write.
Here’s my writer’s brain thinking about this. While story telling is a natural, common part of our social world, making things up and writing them down is foreign. Even suspicious. For some perhaps, warning bells ring. SECRETS must not be revealed. On the other hand the act of writing might be considered lofty and elitist - a.k.a. ALIEN. Or there may be an element of pity and discounting. Poor dear, she thinks she is a writer.
Here’s the truth. Because I am a writer, I behave differently around people. I’ve usually got a project on the go and at one level I am always searching for inspiration. I do want to reassure you there is never any direct link to what you may have shared and what I write. It might be your seed, but the gardener/writer is a creator that spins it into a fictional world that bears no resemblance to the inspiration source. I don’t care how you spell or what your grammar skills are. Relax, my new friend.
Another interesting reaction when, as I claimed the status retired, I added that I write. The woman responded with, “Oh. So you’re still working.”
That’s very insightful.
Tuesday, October 3, 2017
What a rush! Down in the Dirt magazine V150 - October is now released. Inside of this issue is my short story A Finch at the Window. That I expected. The surprise, and pleasure, is that the good people at Down in the Dirt have used my story title as the issue title. This tip of the hat to my story is unexpected and I am humbled. Thank you. Read the story here at Down in the Dirt. Click on current issue square. To read other stories of mine that Down in the Dirt has published link here and look for my name in the writer listings.
Thursday, August 24, 2017
I sometimes wish that every time I sat down to write that the words would flow effortlessly and be as beautiful as I can make them. I have had moments like this but far more I have writing projects that were wrenched word by word onto the page. Those days when my words have balked and stalled and caused me to despair used to be frequent. I still write slow but I don’t fret as much. I sometimes have to be satisfied with sentences and paragraphs that I know will not end up on the final draft. It just is. I’ve done this before, and I will again and in the end I will be satisfied. I recognize that word by word is maybe more valuable to a writer than the effortless flow. Steady work will get me further than any sprint. I get it. But I do like the tumble of ideas, the leaping of connections, the phrases that sing, the flow.