It was raining, that first day at the library. Sheets of water poured down the long panes of glass, obscuring my view of the swollen river just beyond the parking lot.
What are the things that you look for in a story?
Characters face difficult, even crippling, situations, and yet their reality still continues, steadily marching the plot along and pulling them, kicking and screaming, perhaps, with it.
I spend entirely too much time, when we are going somewhere, wondering how and where I will get my next coffee fix. I believe water was created as a vehicle for coffee. So now what?
“When the clocks turn back, for an instant, you are simultaneously in today and yesterday. Or today and tomorrow. I’m not entirely sure which it is. I always get confused, that's why I steer clear of time travel all together.”
Sometimes it seems that I am only thankful when faced with adversity. Appreciative of the days that nothing's gone wrong only when the day seems headed in a downward spiral.
Sometimes, as a writer, you find yourself pouring yourself into a paragraph, a scene—even a chapter. And you reach a point at which you get stuck, and you read it over, and you discover that it just won't work.
The temperature dipped markedly and the cicadas’ songs quieted, replaced by the excited chatter of a hundred families, all eagerly awaiting the big moment.
I never thought I would die in a toilet.