It was a jam-packed weekend. Most critically, I finished the long overdue final draft of a novelette called "Not of This Fold," which is about Mormon missionaries and alien first contact. That goes into the mail today, and means I can get back to my novel Inclination. The
Geoff Landis just emailed me the URL to a Russian SF bibliography site I'd never seen before. Apparently I have a Russian translation I didn't know about, "á ÃÂÃÂèÃâ¢Ã⢠âÞç
Is it possible to be nostalgic for something that only happened a week ago? █████ and I were sitting out back in the dusk last night, me with a beer, she with a cigarette, the dog with a chew toy, and I was telling her about how if I felt this
Though I've been involved with local writers' group on and off in the time since, I hadn't attended a formal away-from-home writing workshop for nearly 21 years—well over half a lifetime, and all of my professional writing career. So it was with excitement and
Speaking of missionary memoirs, Christopher Bigelow has published a very fine personal essay over at Popcorn Popping. Despite my cheeky subject line, it's a revealing read and you should check it out. Why do they call it Popcorn Popping? It comes from a favorite Mormon children's
In which Bill learns that, even when hand-delivered, not every message comes with a happy ending, and the vigorous application of common dust is considered as a harbinger of fiery doom.
Came home last night to a happy dog and an even happier wife. And I couldn't have been happier to see them. But quite a comedown to return to work—and be plunged into a manufactured crisis—after a week-plus at the Blue Heaven workshop. No time to
It's WING NIGHT at the Village Pump, sort of a happy hour for chicken wings, 4 to 6. I could get used to this kind of living. Beer, wings, and internet. Oh, yeah. And the critiquing of novels is very good, helpful, and educational. But boy. Beer, wings,
I'm enjoying the week greatly here at Blue Heaven, on beautiful Kelleys Island off the Ohio shore of Lake Erie. It's raining like a mother, and will for the rest of the week, but I'm still having a wonderful time and learning a lot.
So tomorrow afternoon I fly out to Ohio for eight days of novel-critiquin' good times. This space will likely be pretty silent in the meantime. Looking forward to it, ❦ccfinlay! (And all you other Blue Heaveners out there.)
In which a young boy named Joseph spins a tall tale about angels, warriors, and golden treasure, and all and sundry learn why it's rarely the wisest of ideas to entrust the only copy of your manuscript to someone who doesn't like you.
I learn via Jeff Ford (❦14theditch) that Rick Bowes won the voting in the Million Writers Award for Fiction! Way to go, Rick! And of course, though it's old news by now, Jeff himself won an Edgar over the weekend for his excellent novel The Girl in the
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