Yesterday, we got underway. Spring weather forecasts led us to avoid the planned trip across Boston Harbor from Lynn to Hull, only to prove as insufficient for planning as if we’d gone for a tarot reading. Long tacks north and south got us east to Gloucester, a sufficiently salty town for our feelings of excitement […]
Me and Beluga are so cozy, but it’s time to write!
I’ve got erotica…gloves…and penetrating catalyst… Wait! Wrong lube!
In Boston, as far as I can tell from two winters spent in the Harbor, winter comes late but comes hard. The winter of 2014/2015 was all about my writing. I received advance copies of my first book, Blue Water Dreams, and opened the box on the water taxi dock for the Spaulding Rehab center. […]
I started 2020 on a bit of a sabbatical. James and I flew to India, back to a place we’d been before, in order to rewrite the book draft we’d completed on our last stay. Indoor Boh is a much-reworked crime caper with getaway by bike and boat but, at this point, it is still […]
Who is Monty? She’s the main character of my partially-written book, The Pound. She’s a sex club manager reconsidering her role in “the struggle”, a pansexual dyke with Feelings about family, and a person who cannot settle for good enough.
I read somewhere that you should always be mean to your characters. Writing romance, that applies anywhere but the end. Working on Indoor Boh, though, it has a broader application. I’d feel badly, but you gotta break some eggs…
The writing is still taking a backseat to the traveling, but we’re talking through plot twists and character traits more often. If it’s going to happen organically, I’d say I’m about a week from reopening the first draft of Indoor Boh.
If sailing, being underway, is my favorite state of being, it has to be more than just a vacation. Yesterday, James and I did a project and then I did a bit of editing on my friend Prakash’s website. It’s the beginning of the shift from carefree vacation days to the real life of work […]
Today, I set sail. James and I. We left Mill Creek, off Whitehall Bay, across the Severn River from Annapolis, and sailed south. Oxford, MD, provided the anchorage and now we’re at rest. It’s a chill, mean, glorious day.