The troll at my writing desk

He looks like me. He wears my clothes and sounds like me when he speaks, rarely as that might be. The troll at my writing desk is my distorted doppelganger. He comes into existence slowly over a period of days. Sometimes just a shadow, at first. But as my manuscript or editing become more involved,…

The Rogue Tear

I’ve seen the phenomena before without realizing what it was. It never occurred to me that I could dig past the obvious and find a hidden well of emotion–or, perhaps it did and I just avoided doing it. A lone tear sliding down someone’s cheek can be written off as so many things, particularly when…

Hedged, Sex and the Mailing List

Okay, okay, I’ve put it off as long as I could. I’ve apparently run afoul of some thriller author code by not having a mailing list. The fines were steep, I’ll tell you, and I don’t think I’m invited to Stephen King’s house this year for the annual “Secret Society of Thriller Authors’ Christmas Bash”.…