The School Of Difficult Writing

This is it, the final sentence of THE ROAD TO BITTERSWEET!  I’ve truly enjoyed doing this again for the second year in a row.  I appreciate all of you reading along, and hope I’ve given you enough of the story such that you want to

Next week is the last First Sentence Friday for THE ROAD TO BITTERSWEET! Wallis Ann is strong and sturdy, a true survivalist in every sense of the word.  I believe she would have given anyone on Survivor, or Naked and Afraid a run for their

As I’m writing stories of hardship and deprivation like this one, the desire to keep everything as realistic as possible is what weighs on my mind.  I don’t want to overdo it, yet I certainly love to push characters to the limit.  The Stampers, and

This week is one of the challenges in doing First Sentence Friday.  When I came to Chapter Twenty Five and saw this week’s sentence, it looked (IMO) like it just sort of flopped itself out there.  I thought about maybe cheating a little, and sharing

Living in North Carolina, we get to enjoy the four seasons.   Sure we joke about being in flip flops one day, then wearing long johns and winter coats the next, but for the most part, the weather marches to the tune of Mother Nature, and

The news has been filled with stories of sexual abuse, and it seems every day there’s a new accusation.  Having written THE EDUCATION OF DIXIE DUPREE, it only seems fitting I should say something.  Actually, I feel compelled to speak out about it.  Here are

Wallis Ann has always watched over her older sister Laci, who is mute, yet musically gifted.  In today’s terms she would be classified as autistic.  Back in those days, the term idiot savant was used, which did not set well at all with Momma Stamper. 

By nature, I am a creature of habit.  I go to bed about the same time every night, and get up about the same time every morning.  Consider this; I have cleaned my house every Thursday for decades – no matter what – yes, even

First love.  Do you remember yours?  I remember mine.  He was a junior in high school.  I was a sophomore.  He was part of the “cool” crowd, not the popular football, cheerleader, member of various different clubs sort of crowd, but still very well liked

When writing a story about suffering, hardship and deprivation, there needs to be a balance of good with bad, or readers will be slap worn out (and as the writer, so would I) if it was all negative, with nothing good happening.  I love, love,

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