I was really straining to try to come up with something deep for my blog over the last few days. “I have to write something for release day…I better make it good!” Yeah, I’m sick, and most of my functionally witty brain cells have curled up with a cup of hot water (all I can […]

I had a really good run of slush stories to read for Apex Magazine in the last few days; I sent up about three issues worth of stories to the editor, Cat Valente. Yay! Good stories! But there were some stories in there that didn’t make my personal cut, and I’ve been trying to figure

Since a couple of writers whose advice I generally follow have posted on the nature of distraction (and because I’ve made my wordcount for the day), I’m going to chime in here. Believe me, I understand the irony of writing a distracting blog entry about how to resist distractions.  I prefer to think of it

A totally flattering review by Phil Elmore at the Martialist.

Some people write slow. Some people write fast. Some people write better slow than fast; some people write better fast than slow. Regardless, I made it a goal of mine earlier this year to write faster. And better, but I’m not going to talk about that now, because November is for NaNoWriMo, and we want

No content here, just testing!

For some reason, while I was out for my run today, I had one of those brilliant flashes of insight that end up sounding kind of lame when approached from a more rational direction. Here’s the insight: Writers don’t write stories. See what I mean? But let me explain. When I sit down and write,

I’m messing around with my outline and pitch (query letter) for my NaNoWriMo novel this year, because 1) when I’m lost, I want stuff to go back to, as in “tell me why I’m doing this to myself again?” and 2) It takes me a loooong time to write pitches and queries, and I generally

I’m a Johnny-come-lately when it comes to zombies. I’m okay with that, because I tend to see them a bit differently than the people who dealt with them originally; I think zombies are funny, and public tastes seem to be with me at the moment. Sure, zombies are scary – but they’re funny, too. People talk

What does it mean when you’re relieved when you lose a story? When it’s just too much to contemplate reading it again? Let alone editing it? I find I had a hard time dealing with some of my darker predictions. They seemed like simple math, a tale born of the inevitable. Does it mean that