Guest Post by Marnae Horejs A badly placed poetic device is like an elephant in the ocean. Don’t you hate it when you are really enthralled in an intense scene in a novel and the author, a short, bald, underappreciated man whose mother was an accountant, takes you out of a story to give…
Two summers ago, I made a rebellious decision. In a moment of weakness after a season of commuting to football practice and dance lessons four nights a week, I snapped. It was time to register the kids for the swim team, but I sat at the computer, paralyzed. I couldn’t make myself do it. I…
Who isn’t mesmerized by the dancing flames of a campfire? Outside, under the stars, breathing crisp air, crackling wood, the mind sharpens and opens itself to pondering the expansive universe. Last weekend in Colorado, the campfire’s usual duties expanded from warming hands and feet and toasting marshmallows to something much more artistic and existential. Over…
The internet is full of editing advice for writers. Top google hits produce anywhere from eight to twenty-five simple steps guaranteed to transform writing from clunky and amateur to smooth and professional. Whether you are writing a novel or a senior paper, one of the most basic, common sense tips for editing is to read the work aloud. Reading aloud…
The thought of taking an epic road trip in the mini-van with our four children was daunting, but we were crazy enough to go for it. In the summer of 2013, we traveled over 5,000 miles through 7 states, 1 province, and 4 national parks. After staying in cheap hotels, camping near the beach, 2 new tires,…
How does a busy, mini-van driving mom of four kids find time to write a novel? Recently, this question is a frequent topic of conversation. With the piles of dishes, dirty laundry, bills, and homework constantly demanding attention, mothers often put their goals and dreams on the back-burner while they kill the alligator closest to the…
January 2010. Seven months and a few days after the birth of my youngest daughter. I began to scrub at the remains of a popsicle that had melted on the countertop, trickled down the side of the cabinet, and pooled in a sticky lake on the floor. As I bent down to wipe it, I…
Several years ago, my husband and I stood at easels in my dad’s studio, ready for a painting lesson. Phil chose an Idaho sunset photograph to work from. I picked a shadowy river with a deep orange sky, taken just after the sun had gone down. I could only see two colors: black and orange.…
Imagine yourself in a mini-van full of noisy grade school children. The air conditioning blasts your face with icy air, but a bead of sweat trickles down the middle of your back and disappears in your clinging clothes. School. August. Arizona. It doesn’t make sense. You turn up the radio at the request of the…
My eighteen year old sister rarely calls me, but for some reason I was on her mind one night in late August, 2013. The conversation was simple. She wasn’t asking me. She was telling me. “You should write a novel. November is National Novel Writing month. We should both do it this year.” I couldn’t…
Adrienne Quintana 