Writing is sometimes compared to other art forms: a novel as a painting (or mural), a short story as a deft watercolor.  Personally, I think the closest parallel to writing a novel is designing a house. If I had not been a novelist, I would love to have been an architect. (My friend SJ Rozan…

Wednesdays with Laurie is a series of writing reflections, here on Mutterings, every—yes—Wednesday.  Topics are random, although I expect that cumulatively, they will touch on most of what I have to say about the craft. Today: the time line. I haven’t seen the film cliché of the flipping pages of a calendar used for a while,…

As the final pass of Pirate King through my hands comes nearer—the galley proofs will reach me in a couple or three weeks—the next book begins to stir into life.  This week I will take the first steps in a book that won’t become a reality for the rest of the world for a year…

I’m writing a short story at the moment, and it’s reached the point where I’m looking over the words themselves.  Part of the story is narrated by a precise kind of a person, who uses (as per last week’s post) nouns—or nominal phrases—that are specific rather than general: Langstroth boxes, not beehives; Gladstone bag rather…

My mind being on the how-to of writing at present, I thought I’d post some reflections on various aspects of the craft.  I’ll try to put them up Wednesdays, so as to add some structure to all our busy lives, as well as to give myself the deadline I seem to require to get anything…

With the upsurge of e-readers, there has been an accompanying growth in the impulse to self-publish. I really have no problems with self-publishing. If I had any out-of-print titles, I’d probably put them for sale online. A lot of people love their direct, author-to-reader book sales. J. A. Konrath is one of the more fervent…

To everything there is a season, and a time to every purpose under heaven. When I was new at this business of writing novels, I was also a young mother.  Which meant that if I had free time, I wrote.  If it was a school day, I wrote.  If it was a weekend and my…

I’ve been quiet here on Mutterings for several months, I know.  I didn’t realize that I needed a sabbatical from posting until I took a break, and it went on.  And on.  After five years here, I was feeling that I’d said it all before.  A sensation that’s bad enough when it’s connected with a…