Novel writing – at least this novel writing – was hard. Very very hard.
The hay field changes every week in the growing season, and in North Carolina the wild growing season starts in winter. By February, I’m seeing these tiny flowers everywhere in low grass, by the side of the road, in my ragged lawn, a promise of coming spring. Such a bright blue! Smaller than my smallest fingernail. Hopeful, upright, the color of the sky, they remind me that once I was a child, low to the ground myself, noticing everything.
Dear Kitchen Table Writers, Below is a list of summer reading I plan to do — and I recommend for you. I’ve dipped into each of these and am eager to find a hammock somewhere and read for hours on end. Share your reading list in the comments! Summer Reading List Let Me Out Here, […]
I used to think that as a writer I had to hole up in my little room and write and write, and never come out until I was done. But it dawned on me that unlike in journalism, with creative work nobody really cared if I ever finished something. That gets a little weird after […]