Sometimes I read what I’ve written and I think, how could you do that?
The Bone Trench novel is pocked with very brief flashbacks of the deaths of the bones in the trenches. Despite their brevity, they are intense. When I re-read them, I wonder how I could write scenes filled with such sorrow.
I’ve just finished revising a short story...
One novel is under consideration by two publishers and an agent. Another is with a final set of readers. I’m revising my first set of interlocking short stories. Suddenly, I’m running like a well-oiled writing machine.
These very early short stories are good. Their problems lie mostly in mechanics. Too many words to describe simple movements....