Writing, really I am

Seems to be I can only manage one post a month. My apologies, dear reader. Writing of The Rose Guardian continues slowly but positively. I’m so close to finishing the first draft, perhaps by close of year. I’m very happy with how the characters have developed, particularly Vi, my protagonist. It has been a challenge writing three separate stories, meshing them so the stories flow as a cohesive whole. Fine tuning of that will happen…

Story genesis and writing environmental detail

Recently a dear friend and colleague (Robert Runte) and I were discussing the craft of writing, which happened concurrently with a similar discussion I was having with my husband, Gary. In particular we discussed story genesis, and how to create meaningful environment detail and description in literature. For example, I mentioned to Robert a story on which I’m presently working, that all I had so far was mood (eeriness) and one element (an owl). He…

Featured on Women in Horror Month

I was featured this past week on Colleen Anderson’s Women in Horror Month. The mandate of the event, which is sponsored by the Viscera Organization, is to highlight women who are under-represented in the artistic field. You can find their vision and mission statements at the end of the article.

Every day miracles

If there is one profound lesson I will carry forward from 2012, it is the knowledge that miracles still do exist and occur every day. Perhaps we just don’t recognize them as such because we have become blinded by the abundance of amazing (yes, I’m using amazing as a noun) in mundane and expected events. Today this knowledge created a profound and happy two hours. Our son, Adam Stephens, lives and works in Calgary, Alberta…

Old Poetry

Twenty or so years ago I used to scribble a great deal of poetry, much of it abysmal. This one, however, always stuck with me. And given I’m wasting time this afternoon instead of working, thought maybe I’d put it out here for perusal. Kamikaze Girl Kamikaze girl looking in a haunted mirror will you cry is there a fear you’re fading fast? Shades of night subdue the lamplight, in the glass there is the…