As I placed my head on the pillow to sleep, I suddenly thought about Artie. My heart choked up as if something was squeezing it, hard.
The pain pushed the blood, salt, and tears out of my soul.
I rose out of bed, realizing that sleep was impossible, and walked quietly, almost hypnotically, over to the master bath. What I needed was a good long soak in the tub . . . Continue reading
I am honored to be a guest author on Chris the Reading Ape’s Blog this week. My Secret is OUT.
I secretly enjoy reading . . .
oh, I can’t say . . .
Well, I’ve got to admit it . . .
I refuse to be ashamed of the fact that of all the genres I read, of all the authors I respect and sometimes try to emulate, of all the literary, historical, suspense and contemporary fiction I read, what I most enjoy is . . .
Women’s Fiction.
I fought this knowledge for a long time.
Even when I, myself, published two books that can be categorized as “women’s fiction.”
Instead, I call the genre of my novels “romantic suspense,” both words being true.
But basically, I write women’s fiction.
Why should that be embarrassing or shameful? How horrible, that I have been sucked into the male-dominated literary power structure of believing that books written for, by, and about women are somehow… LESS.
A close friend recently attended…
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©Shelley Steinle, illustrator, Birds of Paradise.
Have you heard the news? Continue reading
“One of my first memories occurred when I was a three-year-old, sitting on my aunt’s lap.
I burped.
“Excuse me,” I said politely.
She laughed so hard I bounced out of her seat. I was offended. Isn’t that what I was supposed to say? Continue reading
I look at you and wonder
Who you see
I watch the worry in your eyes and
Pray you see the one that you desire. Continue reading
roughwighting 