Our friend Stan (OK, so he’s our boss LB’s friend; that’s almost the same thing) teams up with the gang at How It Should Have Ended and rants up a storm:
Month: February 2013
Peggy Bechko: Connecting Your Writing With Publishing
by Peggy Bechko
=&0=& Amazon Kindle Don’t have a Kindle? Get a free reader for your computer: http://www.amazon.com/gp/feature.html/ref=kcp_pc_mkt_lnd?docId=1000426311 Self Publishing Manual 2013 Writer’s Market – Kindle EditionPeer Production: OUTSIDE THE BOX
A lovely takedown of a coupla guys we all know.
Yeah, we’re talking about you, you pretentious shits. You!
Angry Book Review: The Unoriginal Writer’s Daughter Revisited
Yes, the writer of this review is, well, let’s say “uncharitable” and let it go at that. But we gotta tell you: Where she’s coming from is a golden place. Read and absorb, Young Jedi Writers, for your own sakes:
by Shana Mlawski
This week, the YA world is abuzz about The Madman’s Daughter, a new piece of historical fiction about the teenage daughter of Dr. Moreau. (Yes, that one.) (Yes, there is a love triangle in it.)
When I first got wind of the title, my mind immediately went back to one of the very first articles I ever wrote for OverthinkingIt.com. (Don’t read it. It’s meh.) In that piece, “The Unoriginal Writer’s Daughter,” I took writers – mainly women writers – to task for continually naming their booksThe Such-and-Such’s Wife and The Such-and-Such’s Daughter. A quick jaunt over to Amazon will show you that this trend is still very much in play today.
Enduring the Feast and Famine of Writing
Renea Winchester knows what she’s talking about, and if you don’t, don’t worry: You will.
by Renea Winchester
I write this during what I call a feast time. The feast time in the life of an author happens many times. It is a moment, perhaps only an hour long, where words come faster than mortal hands can type, or in my case, write. All reasoning escapes authors during this moment. We become excited, yet emotionally unstable. We embrace this time all while knowing deep in our soul that the feast-moment is fleeting. We fear the feast time almost as much as the famine. What if we can’t capture the words as they tumble through our brain? What if the characters hide and leave us with few words and even less hope.