Eight Habits of a Slightly Unsuccessful Writer (Or, How to Write When You Don’t Take it Too Seriously)
Frankly, My Dear . . . : Eight Habits of a Slightly Unsuccessful Writer
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But first, NOLA NOTE: I recently returned from my annual trip to the Blue Ridge Mountains Christian Writers Conference where I was told by several professionals I am, in fact, doing the Write Thing (aw, see what I did there?). Most importantly, the Godfather (who shall otherwise remain nameless, to protect the innocent) gave me some words of wisdom on … read the rest. . .
Well, I’d tell ya, but then I’d hafta kill ya. Ack! No. Sorry. Just channeling my sarcastic brother and our mutual love for covert spy movies. And comedies. Ohmagosh, remember the Princess Bride incident? Poor Mom had no idea what we were doing as each of her adult children started quoting the movie when we all came home for Christmas. #goodtimes Christmas. Yikes. It’s just over five months away and I’m so not prepared.
Ah, but I digress. So, yes. Back to the question. What have I been doing? … read the rest. . .
I’ve known for a few months this would be my one word for 2018. But before y’all think I’ve gone crazy [too late!], let me explain the beauty of this word and why it means so much to me.
NOLA, my rough-draft novel, is set in post-Katrina New Orleans. I was fortunate to speak with several survivors and I also researched a lot about hurricanes and their aftermath. It is as much a part of New Orleans, and my novel, as Cafe du Monde and the Rougarou.
Just wanted y’all to know, for every book or ebook sold through the end of September, New Inklings Press will donate to Hurricane Harvey and Hurricane Irma relief efforts.
Our thoughts and prayers are with all affected at this difficult time.
After a broken engagement and the death of her beloved uncle, Penny escapes her nightmares by flying into New Orleans. She finds herself struggling to embrace a new future. Does that mean letting go of her past? What about her new friends ~ the ones accused of murder? In search of something she can’t identify, she discovers things aren’t always as they seem. Somewhere between the French Quarter and the bayous, she finds the answers she’s looking for . . .
