We drove to the beach yesterday from our home by Pasadena, and I thought of how I could paint a picture of a sunny, laid back time on the sand in Santa Monica.
I could easily write it so you’d feel a tinge of jealousy no matter where you live. Describing the ocean vibes, the beautiful people and — okay, let’s get to it.
A beach trip was in order before our 14-year-old starts school this week. She’s our granddaughter and we’ve had to carefully think through school options with her mother along with our 6 year old grandson.
“Would you like your coffee in a to-go cup or a mug?”
I appreciated that question from the owner of the small coffee shop where I used to sit and write. “A mug, please.”
After I became a regular they always gave me a mug.
The boutique shop seated less than a dozen people and had walls painted in a relaxing soft blue-gray. An array of coffee mugs added color to the counter, and the windows opened up to the red hues of the San Gabriel Mountains, northeast of Los Angeles.
A mug was solid and the round shape fit…
I was in early grade school when the NBC Nightly News splashed videos and images of the Vietnam War across the television screen. My parents were typically busy upstairs while I watched in our basement’s family room.
What intrigued me was how journalists could cover fights in the jungle and even American POWs being marched through the streets of Hanoi. A desire to help struck me along with marveling over this unusual role of relaying information.
My mother showed me another way of being in the action as a reporter. She wrote for our town’s newspaper and we were eating…
A friend approached me to turn one of his screenplays into a novel. Years earlier, he and I had staged the pilot of one of his situation comedies. His scripts were dormant, and he knew I had been writing fiction through a small press.
He gave me several choices of scripts and I chose a detective tale. I read through it, he and I talked about it, and here’s what happened.
A script is barebones writing, of course. Dialogue and brief directions for the director to follow and interpret.
I could tell that as I started writing, there were a…
I’ve not been feeling well the last few days and illness struck my household. Yet, I was determined to write and publish. It doesn’t matter too much what I wrote, but the fact that I pulled together several hundred words was beneficial and necessary.
What helped was that I started the article last night when I was tired, but at least I got something going. That’s the first step, isn’t it?
I didn’t pressure myself to finish.
This morning, I used that same attitude this morning as I worked through the different sub-heads. …
Earning money by writing online has peaks that let your hopes soar, and valleys where you wonder if you’ll be able to climb out. You’ll have one article that does well and it may surprise you how well it does, while you’ll have other articles that don’t do well at all.
You can get elated and disappointed within a couple of days. Or you might have an article that does so incredibly well and your stats climb, that you write and write but are unable to copy the success. …
I’d describe my work as a writer as a Rubik’s cube — different sides and combinations that aren’t easy to fit together. But that’s me. For better or worse, I’ve never focused solely on one thing. Years from now, historians who are taking a break on important projects and discover my writing may decide that was my undoing.
“He could have been a smashing success in fiction — or journalism, or content creation — even though he was quite good in all.”
I’m pulling my thoughts together today and decided I’d point out what’s new to inform, inspire, and entertain…
Enjoy this novel excerpt that reads as a short story from the soon-to-be-released sixth thriller novel in the Detective Tom Stone series.
A self-proclaimed vigilante sniper is on a deadly quest to save the United States.
Drizzle fell through the redwoods as Bob Stevens pulled out of his driveway in his pick-up truck. He had the wipers on intermittent to clear away the light rain as he drove through town.
A little further along the winding road there were the red and blue flashing lights of a police cruiser. Stevens took a breath but immediately calmed himself as he drove…
I’m writing this on impulse. Mostly because my time is limited and it’s a truth that strikes me hard. I like doing. I like writing, publishing, and writing so I can publish again.
I like making things happen because so much is usually happening in my world. I rarely have more than two or three hours without some major interruption and that’s been my situation for years.
A full day to write quietly sounds like a dream, but it’s one I don’t think will be realized until I’m well into my 70s.
But sometimes, you have to stop and think…