Last weekend, the road rose up to meet me! My flash fiction story "Roots" received the Irrgrønn Flash Fiction Award , and my win was announced at the Irrgrønn Festival of Contemporary Irish Literature . Even on an ordinary day, there's nothing I like better than hanging around Oslo's Litteraturhuset . In past…
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All posts tagged Writing
How to Start a Writing Group
When I moved to Oslo three years ago, I hoped to plug into a ready-made writing group. I thought it would be the best way to meet people and nurture my writing career. My first weekend in town, I met a woman (a fellow American) who, when I mentioned that…
Shivers: When Life feels like Fiction
Maybe it's because I'm a writer, but I love it when life looks, smells, tastes, sounds, or feels like fiction. When I stumble upon something (or someone) so perfectly proportioned, so quizzical and memorable, that it couldn't be coincidence. Or fate. Or chance. Or anything true. No. When the hair…
Thankful for Luck
My brother, Curtis, has a new blog, which I just discovered this week. Those of you who know Curtis won't be surprised that he has a lot to say about certain things, mostly regarding topics philosophical and/or political. I love that he's begun writing these things down and putting…
The False Summit (or, How I'm Manhandling NaNoWriMo 2013)
Time flies when you're writing thousands of words every day. It's all because of National Novel Writing Month, a masochistic writing commitment which I've attempted and failed to complete twice before. But this year, I told myself, would be different. This year I would be joining several wonderful friends in…
Writing Exercise: 26 Sentences
One evening this summer, I led my writers' group through several back-to-back short exercises. This was easily the favorite of the night: Create a story that is 26 sentences long. Each sentence must begin with the next letter in the alphabet. For example, the first sentence should begin with A,…
The Last Leaf
Someone must be last. That's the rule. And in my kingdom, this works out fine, because the last shall be first. Yet, this little leaf, now brown and curled around the edges, dampens even my spirits today. Perhaps it is the way it clings so hopefully to the branch. Well,…
An Unnamed Poem
_____________ I am afraid to name her. What if I call it wrong? If my moniker choice resists story, history, or song? Details of breeding and face, habits, regrets, disgrace... These I'll slap on her like travel stickers on a suitcase, but a name? So much weight. So I wait. One…