Month: December 2013

(d) Whatever

I’ve found a rhythm. While my editor in Oregon has Train Trip, I’m working on another novel. The first round, I was in Memphis and I revised Bone Trench, a Christian fantasy novel set in Memphis. Second round, I was down in New Orleans so I finished (!) Jazzy, a Katrina novel. This round—hopefully the last—I’m revising A Model...

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Juggling Chainsaws

For many years I kept a comic featuring a little boy juggling chainsaws. This concept spoke to me. It was the way I lived my life. This sounds negative. It isn’t. Now, I’ve discovered, it’s the way I write. * I’ve written six novels. They have nothing in common. I’ve wondered, for the last four years, what the hell...

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Vangie Street, Stuck on the Runway

I want to work on my novel. They want me to buy Christmas presents. And wrap Christmas presents. And think about food for Christmas. And pack to leave town for Christmas. But Vangie Street is stuck on the runway. She keeps taking a knee—is she Teebowing? Will anyone even remember that phrase in five years?—and popping up like toast. She grins,...

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The Silence of Joy

Writing Group is often hectic. We have, on average, 14-16 writers every Wednesday. Many of us only see one another this one hour per week. We use the time to catch up on the progress of the cancer treatments. Whether the child-custody hearings were held. How the visit with the grandbabies went. The latest on the wait for housing. What, if anything...

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Are We Not Supposed to Talk About This?

The email notification pops up: this new person (who you don’t know from Adam’s house cat) is now following your blog! You, the email encourages, might like their blog as much as they like yours—go see what they’re up to! As instructed, I mosey on over to their blog site. Sometimes the blog actually intersects with mine. I write...

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A Sister Sledge Moment

“Like an adopted family,” A. said. We were bumping along in the church van. Ten of us crowded the back seats, plus the two church members driving the van. We’d eaten lunch, opened gifts, and enjoyed Christmas caroling. Now we were finishing up our shopping spree at Wal-Mart, returning home. As we traveled through the beautiful...

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The Angel’s Beating Wings Fill the Room

The red table runners glowed, the tiny gold trees sparkled. The voices rang out in clear, clean notes—some among us could sing—and the warmth of the group welled up in me to the point I needed to leave the room. Not because I’m ashamed to cry in public, but because, over the years, I’ve grown tired of stifling the emotions Life knocks...

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Sticky Stories

When a friend sent around a “let’s play” Facebook message about ten books that stuck with you, I made the list off the top of my head. When I finished, I realized on that list I’d included three short story collections. Golden Apples, by Eudora Welty: a collection of interlocking stories set in Morgana, Mississippi, which...

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