Posted by: roughwighting | July 24, 2015

The Son Also Rises look at him across the table, thinking, who is he? Who is this tall, intense, handsome, stiff, strange man sitting with me at La Provence, eating his asparagus quiche daintily as if it were made of flower pedals?

I’ve known him for more than 30 years – intimately – and I truly have not a clue who he is. It was so much easier, when he was my baby boy, and even when he was a burgeoning almost-teenager, still giving me hard hugs at night. He told me stories about his war games with his best friend back then, and his dreams of being an importer/exporter, even though he had no idea what that meant. He was chubby, with a wonderful chuckle and a dimple as wide as a dime. Read More…

Posted by: roughwighting | July 17, 2015

Summertime Tub Reading

bathtub, reading, bubble bathI secretly enjoy reading in the bathtub.All the Light We Cannot See, reading

I escape, undetected, as the hot steamy water begins to fill the tub.

All the Light We Cannot See by Anthony Doerr

As I squeeze some lavender bath foam into the spray of water, I light the small candle hiding in the corner of the large, deep tub. Read More…

Posted by: roughwighting | July 10, 2015

A Rough Ride

Amtrak, motion sicknessI take the train from Boston to Delaware to visit my mom. Anything is better than flying, I figure. Plus, I can watch the pastoral East Coast scenery whiz by, in my romanticized notion of riding the rails.

I pack five books, my laptop, and three short story rough drafts. After all, I have more than six hours to write or read with no interruption.


When was the last time you rode a train? Do you remember the bouncing and jouncing, the rolling and jerking one mile to the next to the next…? 

Read More…

Posted by: roughwighting | July 3, 2015

Creating a Writerly Web

spider, web, writingI stare.

I sigh.

I pick up my glass of iced tea and swallow.


My hips twist as I sit in the chair, the one in front of the computer.

The computer where I’m typing the new chapter.

The new chapter where my character Gregory gets caught in a web of… Read More…

Posted by: roughwighting | June 26, 2015

The Magic of My Smile

magic, smileAt first, I wasn’t sure how to use it. A handshake made sense, but how many people do I actually shake hands with in a span of a day?

So then I thought, how about just in the tilt of my head? When I’m ready to dispense my magic, I’ll just tilt my head and ta da –magic completed.magic, smile

But no, I decided, too impersonal and detached. Same with my rather whimsical idea of wrinkling my nose aka Samantha in “Bewitched.” When I’m ready to bestow this newfound magic, I need to do it up front and personal. I was rather proud of my new powers, so I wanted to share them in as pleasant and friendly a way as possible.

So my smile became the vehicle for my magic. Read More…

« Newer Posts - Older Posts »



Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.

Join 757 other followers