The Places We Leave Behind

I’ve been lucky, although for a long time I didn’t notice.  While I am clearly a small town/rooted for generations/never need to move kind of woman, I have only lived in one small town, where we had no family ties.  We moved on after six years.  I am married to a minister, and moving comes…

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Which Comes First, The Novel or the Title

While I’m out of town visiting family and waiting for the arrival of the new grandchild, I thought I’d share a blog I wrote for Fresh Fiction in June of 2009.  A search tells me it never appeared here, so enjoy now.  I’ll be back with new blogs next week. Which comes first, the novel…

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Digging for Gold In My Own Backyard

Since I’m traveling today, I thought you might enjoy a blog I wrote last fall for Suzanne Beecher who runs “Dear Reader” book clubs online.  Suzanne’s book clubs are a great way to have book excerpts sent directly to you each weekday, in a genre you choose. For the record, and a year later, I did NOT…

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Eyes Wide Open, and Pen (?) in Hand

** Be sure to read to the end for a chance to win an autographed novel. Yesterday, Monday, was celebration day.  On Sunday I sent Sunset Bridge to my editor.  These days that’s as “easy” as attaching the manuscript to an email and clicking “send.”  Of course everything that went before?  Not so easy.  Months…

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You Say You Want A Digital Revolution?

If you read my recent blog on writers and friendship, you know I spent last week at the Novelist’s Inc. workshop on St. Pete Beach, my old stomping grounds.  It’s always a surprise when I go home to find not the huge changes we sometimes see, but a re-creation of the past.  My neighborhood looks much the…

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With A Little Help From My Friends

Earlier in the fall I asked my Facebook  readers what topics they would like to see here at Southern Exposure.  Brandi Jones asked about my relationship with other authors.  She wondered if we critique or brainstorm together, help each other out of writer’s block or even lend ideas.  She was surprised at the lack of…

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They Don’t Call ‘Em “Dead”lines For Nothing

I spent yesterday searching for hidden objects.  What time I didn’t spend with nose to ground–a skill I learned from the local beagle–I spent watching half the appliances in my house fall apart.  Ah, some people look for signs of changing seasons, colored leaves gently drifting to the ground, that first tracing of frost on…

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