Tag: writing

  • Why I Like Period Pieces. Period!

    English Lit class, many moons ago. The professor has just announced that the next novel we have to read will be Pride and Prejudice (somehow it always ends up being about Jane Austen!).

    As you may imagine, his announcement met with groans, mainly from students of the male persuasion (get it? Persuasion). I, however, cheered inwardly. I loved P&P. I had read it countless times. And now I was going to get to talk about it, write about it, and get tested on it!!! Oh, life was good.

    Toward the end of the semester, my teacher made some interesting points that have stuck with me to this day, things that explained why I’d always loved books about people from yesteryear. He said something about how people don’t write in the past, they write in the present—their present, which is the time period all action takes place. We often say things like, “Time flies,” mainly because we don’t know what else to say, or “There’s never enough time,” as if it is a tangible thing that we can hold, hoard, and quantify. But does time really pass us by or do we pass through time?

    The idea of time travel has always captured my imagination, perhaps because as kid I regularly traveled through time. I read books like Little Women, and the Anne of Green Gables series. They were transportive and timely.

    Timely, in the sense that all writers write their stories in their present. Their stories are not about archaic sounding/acting people, but modern people living in modern times. By their words and actions, it may become apparent to us that they are governed by a set of mores and manners that we have perhaps outgrown. Occasionally they will mention a mode of conveyance (brougham) that differs slightly from what we’re used to, or a character will appear in a scene wearing a garment or hairstyle (pompadour, hoop skirt) that is unfamiliar to us. Yet despite these superficial differences we recognize something that transcends time or place—the human heart.

    As Sting said, “..the Russians love their children too.” Or as Jack so profoundly pointed out in a vintage Jack in the Box commercial, in Italy, it isn’t called Italian food, it’s called food.

    As a side note, some of the male students confessed that they actually liked Pride and Prejudice, much to their surprise. The lesson: don’t get hung up on differences; just give Pride & Prejudice a chance; food is food; time travel is possible (all you need is a good book).

  • Where the Sidewalk Ends

    Where the Sidewalk Ends

    Yes we’ll walk with a walk that is measured and slow,
    And we’ll go where the chalk-white arrows go,
    For the children, they mark, and the children, they know
    The place where the sidewalk ends.

    Shel Silverstein

    IMG_6941

    In my latest book, I’m the Greatest Star, my protagonist, Star Franklin recites the poem Where the Sidewalk Ends in front of her sixth grade class.

    This poem got me thinking about a few things. Like…what other things do children know that we adults seem to have forgotten?…which leads me to my latest blog post…

    I’ve been thinking a lot about chalkboard art because…well…it’s everywhere these days. The other day, I was reading a tutorial about how to create great chalkboard art and I learned that it’s important to “season” the chalkboard before you begin by rubbing a piece of chalk across the board and then gently erasing it. Ideally, this will leave a little bit of chalk dust behind on the surface, a faint chalky residue (and then you can go about creating your masterpiece).

    Sometimes I think we forget the beauty of something in its pristine condition. So little in today’s world is pristine anymore. Most everything is fairly used up. Everything else seems to be recycled, and if it’s not, it’s seasoned and distressed to give the appearance of not being new.

    This makes me think about childhood—a time when just about everything is new, when there is magic afoot—not the Harry Potter type of magic—but the magic of discovery. That magical time when you are finding things out for the very first time, when you are not too embarrassed or too ashamed to not know something before everyone else, and when you feel free to be yourself and have the audacity to think you’re good enough because the world of advertising hasn’t started its campaign to convince you otherwise.

    I’m talking about that early state of existence when you truly are a blank slate, before you get seasoned and distressed (being a blank slate is something chalkboard art is apparently not about).

    Thinking back to childhood made me want to try to remember some of the things children seem to know, but grownups have forgotten. So, I made a list. Oh…how I love making lists…

    1. It’s important to look down. Little things, like ants and snails and lady bugs and tiny flowers growing in the grass, are important, too. These are masterpieces in miniature, but as adults, we tend to pass over them, thinking such things are beneath our notice. Little kids are good at stooping down.
    2. It’s also important to look up. Look up, for instance, at the daytime sky. What do you see? Fluffy white sheep moving across a beautiful blue meadow. Ah, the power of seeing what’s not there. At night, it’s the Man in the Moon. He’s up there, really. I’ve seen him watching over me. It’s good to believe in something bigger than yourself. It’s good to realize you’re not the center of the universe. It’s also good to find role models. Look up to them. It’s all about elevation. If you run with turkeys, you can’t soar with eagles.
    3. Keep wonder alive. Ask things like ‘what if?’ and ‘how?’ These are powerful words that keep you from getting too comfortable with the mundane, boring, or ordinary. Sometimes it pays to color outside the lines. Open things up. Find out how they’re put together. Learn what makes them tick.
    4. Ask, “Can I play?” It’s a simple, direct question. There are no politics involved, no hidden agendas. Just a plain request that lets people know what you want and need. You might get your feelings hurt, but at least you’ll know you have them. Wearing your heart on your sleeve is more fashionable than a chip on your shoulder. Be proactive, not reactive.
    5. Sometimes the answer is no. If one group says you can’t play with them on the monkey bars, go ask the group playing four square. Maybe you’ll like that game better anyway. Rejection is not always a bad thing. Oftentimes, it’s not even personal. Maybe it’s completely random (…like only four people can play four square and you’re person number five).
    6. Sometimes the answer is yes. You’ll never know if you don’t ask. The Rolling Stones said, “You can’t always get what you want.” But sometimes you do. When you think about it, your odds are pretty even.
    7. Speaking of asking, ask the big questions because they matter. Aside from taking things apart, that’s how you find out stuff. Kids know ignorance isn’t anything akin to bliss. And by the way, ask “unqualified” questions. Don’t ask “quick questions” or apologize for “stupid questions.” When I was a kid, my father used to say, “The only stupid question is the one you didn’t ask.” So, ask away. Dr. Seuss said, “Sometimes the questions are complicated, and the answers are simple.” If you don’t ask, you won’t know.
    8. Get lost in the moment. That’s what moments are for. Stare blankly into space. Dream (dreams are good). Brainstorm (also good). Take a moment to forget about schedules, forget time. It’s arbitrary anyway and takes no prisoners as it marches along.
    9. Open your eyes, they are the windows to the soul after all. Take things in. Explore this beautiful world that we’re fortunate to live in. When you see something amazing, say, “Wow!!!”
    10. Know when it’s time to cover your eyes. The first time I saw a Jurassic Park movie in the theater, I heard a little kid in one of the rows behind me say, “Tell me when the scary part’s over.” When the scary monsters are on the screen, look away. Don’t watch train wrecks. Remember that there are some things you can’t un-see. Some things are going to give you nightmares. Every self-respecting kid knows that nightmares are not good things.

    Now it’s your turn. What are some of the things you remember that you forgot? I’d love to hear your thoughts.

  • Whatchamacallit…Part Two

    Do you know what this thing is called?

    Hint, it’s not called that thing above the 7.

    While it represents the word and, technically, it’s not called and or even the and symbol (although, you could call it that, and people would probably know exactly what you mean). This thing has an actual name. If you watch Wheel of Fortune (or if you’re one of those generally well-informed individuals) you may already know what that name is…

    Pat, I’ll take an ampersand…

    Technically, no one on Wheel of Fortune ever buys an ampersand…it’s a given.

    Now, for the second question: Do you know why it’s called ampersand?

    No, not because some printer by the name of Amper invented it (it’s not Amper’s and, although that explanation does sound plausible). And that brings us to the crux of this article.

    In fact, its name has a lot to do with how spoken words are heard and/or misheard…it’s a mondegreen.

    Say what?

    Yes, the word ampersand is a mondegreen! Here’s Merriam-Websteren’s entry for ampersand:

    noun am·per·sand \ ˈam-pər-ˌsand \ :  a character typically & standing for the word and

    Despite appearances, the history of ampersand owes nothing to amp or sand. The familiar character & derives from a symbol that was used in place of the Latin word et, which also means “and.” In the late Middle Ages, single letters used as words-words like I-were, when spelled, incorporated into a phrase that clarified that they were in fact individual words. For I the phrase was I per se, I, which in Latin means I by itself (is the word) I. In early lists of the alphabet, Z was followed by the symbol &, which was rendered & per se, and, meaning “& by itself (is the word) and.” Over the years, that phrase (which when spoken aloud was pronounced “and per se and”) was shortened by English speakers to ampersand. (https://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/ampersand)

    When you think about the way modern-day school children recite the English alphabet, this makes perfect sense. Remember how you used to turn the innocent letters L-M-N-O-P into the inscrutable word elemenopea? In a similar way, over time, the slurred-together spoken phrase “and per se, and” became a word unto itself, ampersand. Aren’t words the best?

  • The Jane Austen Treatment

    The Jane Austen Treatment

    The idea: to translate Jane Austen’s comedies of manners into useful instruction in the finding and keeping of employment.

    Background: I’ve been an avid reader and/or viewer of Jane Austen novels and/or movies since I was a teenager. My first Jane Austen novel was Pride and Prejudice, read it in one setting, as I was mentally, physically, and emotionally unable to put it down.

    As a teenager/young adult, I also read a steady steam of job search articles and books about surviving job interviews. I knew all of the ins and outs, the whys and wherefores, and the dos and don’ts. I was well-schooled in the art of looking for a job. But I still dreaded interviews because I never felt prepared.

    Then one day, while waiting in my car to go into a job interview, I was mulling over the standard tips I’d gleaned over the years. They seemed cold and lifeless sitting on the page or glaring at you from the computer screen. And, as I sat in my car in the few minutes before having to go in to face the “hiring squad,” I gave those familiar tips a slight tweak—the Jane Austen treatment, if you will—and suddenly they came to life. They became useful. They became memorable. They became fun.

    And now I’m (re)sharing them with you. (Editor’s note: these articles were originally published on this blog May-October 2014)

    What’s Your Worst Quality, Mr. Bingley?

    If answering the questions “What’s your worst quality?” or “What’s your biggest weakness?” sends chills down your spine, read what Mr. Bingley did. You’ll never be stumped again. Read more here.

    darcy at desk

    Don’t Bad-Mouth Your Former Boss, Wickham

    When a potential employer asks, “Who was your worst boss?” he/she’s not inviting you to vent. Discover a better way to respond to this question by reviewing Wickham’s epic fail. Read more here.

    wickham

    Become a World-Class Networker (Like Mrs. Bennet)

    This is probably the one and only time it is okay to make Mrs. Bennet your role-model. When it came to networking, the girl had skills! Read more here.

    mrs. bennet

    Dress For Success, Elizabeth

    Miss Elizabeth Bennet may have had fine, bright eyes, but did her petticoats drenched in mud really send the right message? Read more here.

    eliza

    Tell Me About Yourself, Lady Catherine

    Learn how to deal with this ice-breaker from none other than Lady Catherine de Bourgh herself. Read more here.

    lady catherine

    You Can Never Be Too Thankful…Just Ask Mr. Collins

    Mr. Collins was nothing if not overflowing with gratitude. Take a page from his book (just don’t overdo it). Read more here.

    Mr. Collins

    Does anyone else find it highly ironic that a bunch of people who (with the exception of Wickham) never worked a day in their lives could instruct one about job interviews?

    Gossipgirls

    Nevertheless, this is what’s worked for me. What are some of the ways you make a boring, unpleasant task a tad more tolerable?

    And finally, do I promise this is the last time I will write about Jane Austen? I’m sorry, I cannot make that promise.

  • My Favorite Movies…about writers

    Vintage writer’s desktop with typewriter and flying sheets, creativity and inspiration concept

    So, my literary kitty, Lily, already blogged about her love of movies, just one of the many things we have in common.

    Today, I thought I’d share a list of my favorite movies about writers. There’s no shortage of movies about writers, probably because movies are written by writers and we tend to think that we are a fascinating bunch whose lives must be chronicled.

    So, without further ado…

    1. To Walk Invisible

    The remarkable story of the Brontë sisters’ path to publishing. Take courage, indie authors.

    2. Romancing the Stone

    This movie was a childhood favorite and was also on Lily’s list. Hopeful romantic, romance novelist, Joan Wilder is thrust into a scenario that may well be taken from the pages of one of her novels…it’s art imitating life imitating art…who says movies about writers must be boring?

    3. Saving Mr. Banks

    I love this movie—even though ironically, I’ve never been a Mary Poppins fan (sorry Mrs. Travers!)—because it has one of my favorite lines explaining what we as writers do. Tom Hanks, as Walt Disney says: “George Banks and all he stands for will be saved. Maybe not in life, but in imagination. Because that’s what we storytellers do. We restore order with imagination. We instill hope again and again and again.” Word!

    4. Miss Potter

    This biopic about Beatrix Potter is inspiration for writers to believe in their work. Go against the establishment, self-publish (sort of), and draw amazing pictures of impossibly cute woodland animals with adorable names like Flopsy, Mopsy, and Cotton-tail.

    5. Jane Austen Regrets

    I think this choice is fairly self-explanatory, if you’ve read any of my previous posts. If not, let’s just say, I’m fairly obsessed with Jane Austen.

    6. You’ve Got Mail

    I will be blogging about this more in the future (as in, somewhere down the road, not in the far off, dystopian sense of the word). I love this movie so much that it deserves its own post. It’s about writers, books, children’s books, and bookstores…and bookstore owners. And it has Tom Hanks and Meg Ryan who are my favorite Rom-Com duo, possibly after Doris Day and, say…anyone.

    7. Throw Momma from the Train

    I had to re-visit this movie. It’s the one that got everything started for me. And it’s the second movie on this list that has Danny DeVito in its cast.

    8. Breakfast at Tiffany’s

    I’ll admit that this movie has some glaring flaws and missteps that I am willing to forgive (for instances, the whole Mickey Rooney character). But despite its flaws, I fell in love with this movie. The writer in this one is George Peppard, who plays Holly’s ultimate love interest, Paul Varjak (“That’s V-A-R-J-A-K.”)

    9. Genius

    A fascinating movie about the creative process that gives us a peek into what that looks like for the editor. It chronicles the relationship between writer, Thomas Wolfe and editor, Maxwell Perkins, two very different men, one with a genius for writing, another with a genius for friendship.

    10. Finding Neverland

    I like this beautifully filmed movie for its dreamy quality. It’s the story of how J.M. Barrie befriends a family of young boys who inspires him to write Peter Pan, and who just so happens to be related to Daphne du Maurier, author of a little book called Rebecca, among other things.

  • A Horse is a Horse (of course, of course)

    OA1OXX06

    As a writer, I love a good turn of phrase. Or as Jason Mraz says (sings), “I’m all about them words.” I am too. All about them. Words.

    As a person, I love horses. I’ve loved them since my big sister brought home the Billy and Blaze books from the school library when she was in first grade. I’ve never ridden a horse. I’ve never actually spent much time around them. In fact, the one time I had the opportunity, I chickened out because the horse was big and had teeth and I was only five. I stood by the sidelines and watched my dad take a turn around the corral. I wish I had been braver, but if wishes were horses

    I find it curious that there are so many figures of speech, proverbs, similes, metaphors, etc. that involve horses, but hold your horses, I’ll get to that in a minute.

    Wild horses won’t drag it from me

    I remember reading this phrase in Anne of Green Gables and falling in love with it. It’s dramatic, noble and at the same time, full of romanticism, this idea that you could keep a confidence despite the temptation to blab.

    Wild horses make me think of the untamed West and the line from Oklahoma that says about cowboys, “they ride for days on end with just a pony for a friend…” I love the idea of wild horses as found in books like Misty of Chincoteague and the My Friend Flicka books—wild, beautiful and free.

    Of course, when I think of wild horses in connection with dragging, I must admit that the idea of drawing and quartering tends to pop into my mind, but I quickly dismiss it because, well, that whole notion is just gruesome. Still, the idea of someone having the mental stamina, courage, bravery, and strength of character to not give up a confidence despite the threat of bodily harm is inspiring.

    If wishes were horses beggars would ride

    This phrase makes me think of what I like to think were simpler, more innocent times. I supposed there’s no way of knowing whether or not bygone times really were simpler, no real way to compare without access to a time machine…and time machines only exist in books and movies, right? Right? But it makes me feel good to think times were simpler and better when people rode horses.

    I like the idea that a mode of transportation could be loyal to you. Cars certainly are not loyal; they break down and giveOA1PXX07 out at the most inopportune moments—on freeways, for example—leaving you stranded and having to call a tow truck and pay a mechanic potentially terrifying amounts of money to get them fixed. While it is true that horses had the tendency to die (when they got old or when they were shot because they broke their leg), at least, in books and movies, they did so heroically, after fighting the odds.

    Another reason I like this expression so much is it takes me back to the magic of childhood when you believed in the possibility of being granted wishes…like in the case of Aladdin or even in the Biblical tale of King Solomon, who was wise enough to ask for more wisdom which enabled him to…well, let’s just say it was a very clever way of wishing for more wishes.

     More horsin’ around

    Here are a few more expressions and/or figures of speech featuring horses:

    • A horse of a different color – made famous by The Wizard of Oz
    • Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth – (unless you happen to live in Troy and receive a mysterious giant one!)
    • All the king’s horses and all the king’s men – from Humpty Dumpty fame
    • You can lead a horse to water, but you can’t make him drink
    • Get off your high horse
    • Eat like a horse
    • Beat a dead horse

    Now I’m going to change horses midstream and list some of my favorite childhood books about horses. Feel free to chime in with your favorites. I’m open to suggestions and I’m not above reading children’s literature as an adult.

    1. My Friend Flicka
    2. Thunderhead
    3. Green Grass of Wyoming
    4. The Black Stallion
    5. Black Beauty
    6. Misty of Chincoteague
    7. Billy and Blaze
    8. The Absolutely Perfect Horse
    9. The Little House Books
    10. (YOUR CHOICE)
  • Misunderstandings Are the Spice of Life

    Misunderstandings Are the Spice of Life

    There is, I believe, in every disposition a tendency to some particular evil—a natural defect, which not even the best education can overcome.”

    “And your defect is to hate everybody.”

    “And yours,” he replied with a smile, “is willfully to misunderstand them.”—Jane Austen, Pride and Prejudice

    The Tendency to Misunderstand

    I touched on this subject previously when I talked about mishearing and misunderstanding song lyrics (and arguably improving upon them) in a previous blog post. The resulting phrase based on the misunderstood words is called a mondegreen. Incidentally, the etymology behind this word is interesting and just goes to show one more great thing about being a writer: you get to make up words.

    It’s no secret that misunderstandings are at the heart of some of the best stories. If you don’t believe me, watch any random episode of Three’s Company.

    Holden’s Mistake

    However, classic TV shows aside, the story that I actually had in mind is J.D. Salinger’s classic tale of teenage angst. In The Catcher in the Rye, protagonist Holden Caulfield misunderstands and misquotes a line from “Comin’ Thro’ the Rye,” a poem by the Scottish poet Robert Burns. His misunderstanding (though not technically a mondegreen) provides the novel’s title, as well as one of its most poignant scenes, which occurs late in the story when Holden explains his life’s ambition to his little sister Phoebe in what could be termed his “I Am Song” moment.

     “I thought it was ‘If a body catch a body,’” I said. “Anyway, I keep picturing all these little kids playing some game in this big field of rye and all. Thousands of little kids, and nobody’s around–nobody big, I mean–except me. And I’m standing on the edge of some crazy cliff. What I have to do, I have to catch everybody if they start to go over the cliff–I mean if they’re running and they don’t look where they’re going I have to come out from somewhere and catch them. That’s all I’d do all day. I’d just be the catcher in the rye and all. I know it’s crazy, but that’s the only thing I’d really like to be. I know it’s crazy.” (The Catcher in the Rye by J.D. Salinger)

    It’s “If a Body Meet a Body”

    When I first read The Catcher in the Rye, I recognized Holden’s mistake—that is to say, I recognized the line as a song Laura and Pa used to sing in the Little House books, specifically in By the Shores of Silver Lake. This was a particularly gratifying moment for me, because it meant that I’d gained something far greater than learning how to churn butter (in theory) and how to theoretically deal with a locust plague from all those years I’d spent reading as a kid. It was like my reading was paying off. I love it when knowledge comes full circle.

    A Few Points to Take Home
    1. Writers get to make up words (It could happen, I’m not saying it will, but the word mondegreen was coined by a writer in an essay. Now it’s in Webster’s).
    2. If you spend your entire childhood reading the Little House books, it may benefit you in unexpected ways.
    3. A Jane Austen quote is always pertinent.
    4. Don’t be frustrated by misunderstandings; learn to laugh at them. Unless you’ve built a pipe dream around one and it’s been mercilessly shattered and your very next stop will likely be a nice long stay undergoing psychoanalysis in an institution. In that case, it’s not at all funny, but rather…sad…
  • Declaration of Independence

    Or Why I Became an Indie Publisher

    Once upon a time, I used to think that the only pathway to becoming a “real author” was to secure an agent who would sell my book to a “real publisher.” This would inevitably result in a call from said agent reporting the sell, which would reduce me to a sobbing mess of happy, relieved, celebratory tears. That phone call never came, because finding an agent (for me, anyway) proved to be the enormous, impossible, clichéd catch-22 that everyone says it is. I once read a quote that likened the TV business to ‘a cruel, shallow money trench, a long plastic hallway where good men die like dogs.’* The quote resonated with me; I instantly pictured my books left to die along a long plastic hallway of shattered hopes and dreams. Was I bitter? Was I hopeless? Perhaps, just a tad, but like I said in an earlier post, writing is something you can’t stop. It was just a matter of figuring out a new, different, and better approach to authorship. Or, to quote from Jurassic Park, “Life will find a way.” So I watched and I waited. Then, finally one day, seemingly out of nowhere, while I was busy poring over one of those books with lists of agents and publishers (who are currently not open to submissions or who do not accept unsolicited manuscripts or whose name and contact info is followed by any of those unfriendly, unwelcoming, disheartening phrases), there was a publishing revolution—a bloodless revolution with no visible carnage—but a revolution nonetheless—that left writers empowered to take matters into their own capable hands and stop waiting for someone on the other end of the proverbial transom to decide their fate. The time had come to remove the carcasses of dead books, dead hopes, and dead dreams from those hallowed trenches and hallways. Writers could set their books free. Writers could set themselves free. It reminds me of a commercial I once saw… [youtube https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pZDUbKNiMsU?rel=0&w=420&h=315] …Plus, indie publishers have to wear lots of hats and I’m a big fan of hats. Do you have a similar story that you would be willing to share?

    *The quote, in its entirety is: “The TV business is uglier than most things. It is normally perceived as some kind of cruel and shallow money trench through the heart of the journalism industry, a long plastic hallway where thieves and pimps run free and good men die like dogs, for no good reason.”[…]

  • A Writer Writes…Always

    “A writer writes always” is something Larry, a character in Throw Momma From the Train, tells his creative writing students

    (Disclaimer: in the interest of complete transparency, now would be a good time to admit that I remember most of the lines from Throw Momma From the Train. What can I say? I like—in no particular order—1. movies about writers, 2. Billy Crystal, 3. Danny DeVito, and 4. twisted re-makes of Hitchcock films.*)

    I suppose the line resonated with me because I have always considered myself a writer, and because the line happens to be true. A writer does write…always. You can’t stop it, it just happens. Sort of like Kevin James’ dance moves in Hitch.

    [youtube https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=50YQeugOMOw?t=2m00srel=0&w=560&h=315]

    I write because when I was a little girl, my mother took me to the library on a day that a famous children’s book writer was having a meet and greet. “Go on, talk to him,” she nudged, but being shy, I was content to watch from a comfortable distance. Still, that day I learned that writers were regular people. If I hadn’t seen him, it would have taken quite a bit of effort to convince me that books were written and didn’t just exist, like facts.

    I write because in junior high, after having consumed every book in the house, my mother showed me her black binder that looked ancient to me because she’d had it since college. “It’s a book I was going to write,” she told me, and I read it. My mother wrote stories, submitted them, and was never published.  So, I decided to continue her tradition.

    When I was seventeen something extraordinarily ordinary happened to me and sparked an idea that became a novel. I typed it up and sent it to agents and editors and anyone whose address I could find.  And it came back, again and again…and again. It didn’t happen the way I would have written it, but nothing ever does.

    Finally, an agent wrote back with the words I’d dreamed of hearing: “Your novel has the potential to be a best seller.” All it needed, she assured me, was a final edit by a professional, and she knew just the guy. You can probably guess the rest of that story—it’s been written before. But the point of my version is that I was young, hopeful, and ultimately crushed.

    After that fiasco, writing didn’t hold the same allure it once had. I felt like throwing in the towel, switching to some other career that was less gut-wrenching/disappointing. So, I stopped writing. I stopped sending out my unsolicited manuscripts. I stopped reading magazines about writing. I stopped dreaming. But I couldn’t stop the stories. Eventually, I knew something better than I knew lines from Throw Momma from the Train: A writer doesn’t write for publication. A writer isn’t a writer because she is published. A writer writes, always. End of story.

    Maxwell Parker, P.I. 3D cover 2022*After watching Throw Momma From the Train (as an impressionable young girl), I had to see the original movie…Strangers on a Train. I regret to report that this led to a life-long addiction to** Hitchcock movies. A similar fascination with Hitchcock is what inspires my protagonist Maxwell Parker to suspect her new neighbor of murder in Maxwell Parker, P.I. The lesson? You never know what will happen when you introduce Hitchcock to a preteen with an over-active imagination!

    **”a life-long addiction to” may be too strong a choice of words. Maybe “an extreme liking of” would be better. Because I can quit anytime. Really…I can…

    • What about you…why do you write?