Author's note: Cody was born Cooper. He changed his name in an attempt to leave his past behind him.                                                                 “Cooper, what happened?” Julianne ran for him as soon as he came in the front door. “It’s nothing,” he tried to brush past her but she would have none of that. “Don't... Continue Reading →

  About a year ago, I promised to post Origin Stories of some my characters from Unfinished.   I did post a couple, but then I stopped. I neglected this blog. I neglected my origin stories. I made a littany of excuses that would make Mirabelle proud. Being a published author was new to me.... Continue Reading →

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When I first started submitting UNFINISHED to agents and publishers, I got no response. Absolute crickets. I had submitted other works before, and had received some response: a request for more pages, a few requests for a full manuscript.   This time, the silence was deafening. It struck me as odd because this book was... Continue Reading →

Fresh air.  The air always smelled fresher, better when I went through that revolving door on Friday. Nevermind that the air was polluted with exhaust from transit buses and yellow taxis.  On Fridays, it smelled like freedom.  It smelled like the sweet lack of over-processed skyscraper air.  The absence of suits and ties  and stockings... Continue Reading →

We were just kids when we met, me and Bridget. She was a bit of a bully even then. Not really a bully. But even then she was demanding and overly critical. She didn't play well with the other kids in the neighborhood. She often chose to play alone by herself rather than join in... Continue Reading →

Every writer I know has a closet full of ideas that were never finished, characters never developed, stories never resolved. If you've had the chance to read, UNFINISHED, you know that Mirabelle's unfinished characters come to life and request she finish their stories. Many of those characters are from my own closet full of incomplete novels.... Continue Reading →

I never counted my rejections. J.K. Rowling got rejected twelve times. That seemed like so many when I first heard it. Louis L’Amour rejected 200 times. Margaret Mitchell 38 times. The Time Traveler’s Wife, my favorite book, was rejected by 25 agents. The Help...60. The Notebook...24. Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance...121. I never... Continue Reading →