The Hooverman

The crisp clean scent of creosote was drifting through the open picture windows of my bedroom. It always reminded me of the smell of rain in the dessert. Which is an odd sort of thought, since it just didn’t rain in that particular dessert very often. El Paso was a dessert city. It butted up against the very end of the Rocky Mountains and stretched out wide, rather than reaching higher into the open sky with skyscrapers. Everything was the color of old terracotta and I constantly had grit in my teeth from the wind blowing around the sand. But it was home and I was happy. 

Edits, Edits, and More Edits!

I know it’s been a while since I’ve popped in here, but I’ve been doing what writers do…editing. That’s the thing about writing. getting the story out of your head and down on paper is the easy part of the job. The real grit comes when a writer has to edit. This process can makeContinue reading “Edits, Edits, and More Edits!”

Sharpies and Sticky Notes

Hello again, my lovelies. I hope you are all well and safe. Another week has passed and although it was a bit emotionally taxing, I was rewarded with a sweet quiet of flowers from my daughter. I’ve decided that even the most terrible book deserves some credit for the grueling task of managing a re-write.Continue reading “Sharpies and Sticky Notes”