When a Poet Writes a Novel
When a poet writes a novel the moon coils up into a copper-headed snake and hisses secrets. The horizon line bends like a cello string after the sun nods off into the thinning green sea to sleep. When a poet…
When a poet writes a novel the moon coils up into a copper-headed snake and hisses secrets. The horizon line bends like a cello string after the sun nods off into the thinning green sea to sleep. When a poet…
My Novel Incubator instructors loved to tell us to kill our characters. Most of us came into class with drafts bloated with characters who served no purpose, so it was sound advice. During revision, I created a giant diagram of all…
I have twenty minutes to write, about anything, anything at all, and therein lies the problem, the problem of too much choice. I like limits. I adore constraints. Now I’ve got 19 minutes and eight seconds. Shit. I suppose I…
Here’s a comment my copyeditor, Jade Z. Scibilia, made about my last manuscript: “I laughed when you had Lynch mention the number of Johns in the police force (I recall we had to work on that in Idyll Threats). Buuuuut, we have…
Welcome to Meetup Monday, a new feature introducing you to literary sites we love! Today we’re delighted to introduce our literary friends over at The Fictional Cafe.
“Writing a novel is to fabricate an elaborate lie. The end game is not to recreate reality.” -Craig Larsen in On Historical Fiction, True Stories, and not Recreating Reality on LitHub, October 7, 2016 I grew up in a small…