My favorite men in novels? That was actually a much tougher question to answer because as I thought about it I realized I tend to find women characters more interesting.
We want to do it because we love it and hope readers will love what we do; when you love something the rational goes out the window; we are sure the next book will be THE BOOK…
As the world turns. A blog post is often how I start my day, and by 9 or 10 AM I am often immersed in what I am supposed to be writing for eventual novel publication.
I feel it’s a book for adults. Re-reading it I realize increasingly why I was bored with it as a teen. The issues and problems are more adult than I think register with kids.
Novels are (to me) about a snapshot in time. Readers are dropped among “these people” for perhaps hundreds of pages. Abruptly they are then dragged away and are now unable to witness the goings on any longer.
I didn’t ask, but I’m thinking some are “his” books and some are “hers.” If you are not yet in a “live-in” relationship, you need to know this, because it’s important: when you end up living permanently with a “special someone,” their books will likely come with them.
I want to begin the new year by saying “Thank you” for your readership. Some of you have stumbled upon me due to my most recent novel…
Since starting my first book in 2012 I have also written many women, so how women are portrayed generally in novels (particularly by male writers such as myself) has become of great interest to me.
Being pursued by the head of a major film studio desperate to buy the rights to your book would be “a problem” most writers would love to have.
For a Christmas post, how about a series of short – a few seconds each – videos. So you know, they contain SOUND.
The holiday happiness all around me was not making me happier; it was getting on my nerves. I’m unhappy with certain other extended “family” so-called relationships as well. Other life issues are also frustrating me. It all became an angry jumble, bubbling under my surface as the day wore on. I was “overheating.”
Thirty years ago today, Pan Am 103, a Boeing 747 that departed Heathrow for JFK, was blown up at just after 7pm while at 31,000 feet over Scotland.
Through media and social media non-Americans tend to see way too much of the US of the extremes: yapping politicians, Kardashians, people waving guns around, poverty, racial discord, hurricanes, wildfires, religious “fundamentalists” who seem to dislike everybody who isn’t their sort of Christian, and a slew of negatives on a near-endless list; or they see glitter that dazzles them: gorgeous national parks, Florida beaches, Las Vegas, snowy mountain retreats, cool New York City, Hollywood, shopping, and much more.
Over the previous three years, I had also fictionalized her in three novels, the last being that one above. In them I included reconstructions of various real-life interactions and even disagreements between us from back when I was in my 20s and young 30s. She never knew I had sneakily done that.
I’ve been deliberately reserved especially towards younger members of the family. The reason for that is simple: aside from the first book of that trilogy, Passports, which is probably the closest I’ve come to writing what might be termed borderline “young adult,” my novels are not really meant for “under-18s.”