I belong to a Facebook group called Author 18. (Made up of traditionally published debut novelists of 2018) I used to belong to 17 Scribes (when I thought my book was coming out last year hahaha) I was bumped to 2018 after some editorial delays (but rather a polished book than a slipshod, one, right?) And here we are with…
Category: writing
How to Lose your Nerve in Five K’s – the wahine guide to downwinding.
Once upon a time I read a terrifying book about a a man who walked alone from Canada to the North Pole and fell through a crack in the ice into the Arctic Ocean. He didn’t die, but the thought of all that water (plus the entire globe) below him haunted me. I realize that I have read or heard…
The Pantsters guide to NaNoWriMo2017
National Novel Writing Month is around the corner, people. (Strictly speaking it is InterNational Novel Writing month, but no alliteration is boring right?) You don’t need to be a writer to participate, but I can assure you that you will be one afterward. The point of NaNoWriMo is to get in a writing routine (because you are forced to) and …
The best love story writers are…
Some of the best romance writers out there are country music stars. One of my current favorite love stories is one sung by Lee Brice* Watch how he hands out a how-to-reach-your-audience-with-a-love-story lesson in this music video of A Woman Like You Last night, outta the blue Drifting off to the evening news She said “Honey, what would…
Why Voice is Everything in Writing
You know on The Voice, singers have only 90 seconds to wow Adam Levine and get him to turn that chair? Well, it’s the same with writing. You have about 90 seconds on page one to wow an agent/publisher/mentor/reader and get them to turn their attention to your manuscript. I learnt this in Pitch Wars (and a few other forms of…
A rare snippet on parenting – Picky Eaters
I hardly ever write about parenting. Mainly because I am terrified my girls will grow up to become writers and take revenge. What if they write about me like Alexandra Fuller did? She wrote, in her mum’s words, “that awful book”, Don’t Let’s go to the Dogs Tonight (because mother is already there?) and she exposed the full depths of her…
Surfer’s Ode
I went to the seaside on one misty day And there, on a perch at a dip in the bay Was a cross surfer man with a camera phone He was tight lipped and grumpy and stood there alone. He filmed with that phone and he spoke with those lips He reported on wave sizes, wind, tide and rips. But sometimes he laughed…
