Category: Ask Me Anything

welcome to the future

Do you remember when 2021 seemed like the distant future, impossible to fathom as anything than other a dystopian post-apocalyptic world filled with robber barons and highwaymen? And yet, here we are. Then again, 2020 was something of an apocalypse and the world is lilting ever more toward dystopia. In the enduring words of the

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kill it with fire

I don’t know about you, but this entire year has been ten years long and filled with awfulness, from people proving that we’ve become a selfish, greedy nation that doesn’t care about the less fortunate to the government abdicating its duty to take care of its people to the actual pandemic that has killed nearly

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the writer’s brain

You know, sometimes I wonder what it would be like to not have a writer’s brain. How quiet would my head be if it wasn’t filled with characters telling stories, with worlds built from a scrap of an idea, with words spilling in torrents of creativity? I may not always be actively writing, and have

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what’s your name?

If you know me, you know I suck at names. Characters, places…it doesn’t matter. I have a default five or six names I use that I then have to go back and change. Usually I just use the placeholders while I’m actively writing because when I do name a person or thing for keeps, I

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all I want for Christmas

I live a pretty charmed life. I have everything I need. I have most things I want. Like everyone, I struggle a little from time to time, but it always works itself out. Even in this year of darkness. I won’t lie, things are pretty dark in this country right now. We have an administration

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when words flow like water

There is a particular spot when writing a book, at least for me, when I’ve found the path, and the plot is clear and my characters are feeling very chatty, and it just flows out of my fingers and into the keyboard. I’ve recently hit that point with the second Blood Witch book. The problem

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put a little love in your heart

My faith in humanity has been sorely damaged in 2020. I try to believe that people are inherently good, that for the most part we would all do what we can to spare others pain, illness or death. Here lately though, I’m finding it hard to hold on to that belief. For the last twenty

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the writing part of writing

Being an author is an odd sort of thing, I suppose, especially to those who are not *people who write* and especially not for those who also do not read. I was a voracious reader as a child. I absorbed words like a sponge. Stories were vehicles that transported me out of my bedroom and

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