Thoughts about writing, and the universe.
My husband is not a reader. While I wade up to my eyes through stories, he stays dry. We are different people, and that is fine, but I have wondered for years precisely why he doesn't love to read--to me it seems so natural. To me, it is necessary. He has told me sometimes, that... Continue Reading →
In this third season of Star Trek Discovery, there is a lot to enjoy. A reimagined, post-Federation galaxy, the ever-imaginative CGI work, characters who are growing on me in this third adventure through space and time, and most importantly, Star Trek's beautifully hopeful, human, redemptive storytelling in an age when so many shows seem fixated... Continue Reading →
A paradox of fiction writing (and perhaps too of reading) is the power of the storytelling to make us more aware of our real worlds. As the painter studies a subject and seeks to understand each detail of light, color, and shape, so we, when we write, are looking into things' hearts and seeking the... Continue Reading →
This post is part two of two in a series on worldbuilding. To read part one, click here. Last week, we explored how to plan and develop a speculative world, how we must situate ourselves along a continuum between the real and the absurd, how we can tie into existing cultural concepts while still making... Continue Reading →
The worlds we construct inside our stories, especially in speculative genres, carry our readers to new possibilities, new ways of thinking about life and what is set and normal. Worldbuilding is one of the great excitements of the writing process, as our minds, omnipotent in the world of the story, trace out societies and structures... Continue Reading →
Near the end of my journey north, the bus drove onto a ferry crossing the Sogn Fjord. I disembarked and went to the boat's edge. Beneath me, the motor sounded deep and long, like a brilliant foghorn sweeping out over the water. Mountains jutted up on either side of the fjord, and swirls of gray... Continue Reading →
I think both look pretty nice. Why must I choose? A novel is big, literally as well as temporally. At the point I finished a complete first draft of my novel, I had an embarrassing splat of 160 thousand words and a nearly three-year distance from my first paragraphs. Revision beckoned; then it loomed. Although... Continue Reading →
The land here is dry. The leafy tendrils I saw from the airplane, riverbeds, I imagined, are really more of folds in the rock, like the skin of a naked cat around the haunches. Earth muscles, they make me think of. It's December, and a bit of early winter snow remains , but mostly it... Continue Reading →
Words like trees 