One day this week I was driving on a usually open stretch of highway between Paso Robles and Cambria. The drive is gorgeous, with expansive vistas of ranches, mountains, and the ocean. Occasionally I’ll share the ride with trucks or tourists, but once past the main wine tasting road I’m usually alone. Not this week. […]Read More Bully Boss
My local library system gives me the ability to checkout audio or ebooks onto my phone. Their search criteria include the choice of 118 “collections” or I’ll use the word genres. Some are overlaps, still, that is quite a few ways to hunt for what you want to read next. Many readers find a writer […]Read More Literary vs. Genre – What’s the Difference?
I’m privileged to belong to a kick-ass writing critique group. Several of our writers have been working on memoirs and personal essays. They inspired me to write this piece. Cardinal rule of photography – have something red in the picture to focus the eye. A little boy in a red sweater was running around in […]Read More 9/11 Personal Essay
Many of my readers are active in book clubs. One of those readers made the following request. “Tell me about book reviews and where they come from.” To that question I’m adding: “Does a book review make a difference in the sales of a book?” and “Who is Kirkus?” Let’s start with “Where do reviews […]Read More What’s the Deal with Book Reviews?
Most of my journeys from my home to anywhere, include driving on a highway. Be it the grocery store, the bank, into town for lunch or on my way to one of the beach cities on the Central Coast, I’m usually on 46 East, 46 West or the 101. There, I did it. A unique […]Read More Is it “the 46 East” or just “46 east?”
The older man with gray hair and a rugged jeans jacket stood behind me in line at the grocery store. He had an envious selection of goods for 10 am on a Monday morning. Two quarts of ice cream, a bottle of wine and a large bag of mixed candy. When I commented that his […]Read More What did you just call me?
Originally posted on Purple Pants:
Writing is a vulnerable process. Pulling your guard down and decorating all your thoughts on a store window rack in just 26 alphabets. So on this poetry day I sincerely wish for all of us to be strong enough to break down that wall, dress up its evaporating contents on…