A is for April

A is for April

1. It occurred to me that so much of writing is waiting: waiting for ideas to come, or the next scene; waiting to see whether publishers like your latest offering; whether readers like it. Writing is, in this sense, the antithesis of modern life, modern communication,...
Fab in Fourteen

Fab in Fourteen

Happy New Year, dear reader! (You know who you are.) This year is about Writing. Which shouldn’t come as a surprise, coming from a writer, but the last couple of years have been, well, distracting, not to put too fine a point on it. So even though many aspects of my...
The thing with thirteen

The thing with thirteen

1. It is the end of a year of turmoil and upheaval. There has been loss and illness and grief, and pressure-cooker stresses. It has been a year of endings of various kinds. It has been a year of revisiting the past, of trying to find how I got from there to here. This...
When You Remember Me

When You Remember Me

1. Sometimes words are not sufficient, even for a writer. Last month, I lost a woman who meant more to me than she could know, although I tried and failed to explain it to her on many occasions. She was my substitute mother, an unjudging ear, my pole star in times of...
Wired for sound

Wired for sound

On Tuesday I was interviewed on national radio for the first time. I’m not quite sure how it happened: I got a call from the producer of Books and Arts Daily and next thing it’s early in the morning and I’m waiting nervously to go into the ABC studios to talk about YA...
Darn, it’s December again

Darn, it’s December again

1. Months have passed with no blogging, but lots of day-job, writing gigs and general rushing about. It was with some surprise that I noted the arrival of December: it’s been an awfully long time since I’ve had such a dramatic, intense year. I’ve learned how to shoot...