If I asked you, “Are you a writer?” your answer would probably vary depending on what your definition of “writer” is. So let me ask it this way: Do you use words to communicate with other human beings? If your answer to that one is “yes,” then I wrote my latest book...
“What advice can you give me on how to get my writing published?” For years, whenever people have asked me this question, I’ve hemmed and hawed and stumbled and fumbled and generally improvised my way through something that may have sounded like a good reply but...
“It is cold. See the snow. See the snow come down.” Eleven words, and I was off and running. These are the opening lines of Little Bear, by Else Holmelund Minarik, with illustrations by the immortal Maurice Sendak. Little Bear was the first book I ever read to myself....
As the sky darkened the ocean’s surface began to exhibit a strange glow. Patches of otherwordly light shimmered and danced. Finn had studied this. Bioluminescence, from squid, crustaceans, and plankton. Generated by a light-emitting molecule called luciferin,...
A deserted city street. The distant ruckus of drunken revelers, laughter, Christmas carol fragments. Under the faint glow of street lights a flurry of snowflakes drifts to the frigid cobblestone surface, then swirls aside as a girl’s bare feet sprint past. She darts...
One year ago, all we had was a manuscript. A title, STEEL FEAR, followed by a hundred thousand words. No publisher. No contract. No clue whether anyone else would think it was any good, let alone good enough to take a chance on it. We both believed in it. But hey,...
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