"Never didactic but wisely intentional, it is just a matter of time before The Flight of the Griffons takes off and lands in classrooms and homes everywhere. Missy Bullseye oughta rub shoulders with Harry Potter on the world stage. This is not hyperbole..."
Read More"Flight of the Griffons is much more than an adventure story. Flight of the Griffons could be read as a stand-alone, but to have read the first one in the series would make it even more satisfying! So buy both volumes!"
Read MoreChefs curse and yell in a pressure cooker, squishing organic matter into mathematically-shaped molds. Organic matter always objects, yet we continue to squish, and this is art. Presentation is at least three of five stars. That's what makes you gasp.
Read MoreI come to oil country with a book about radicals who wish for the end of pipelines. But that's not what it's about. It's the friction of prosperity and concern, ability and disability, well-placed outrage and courage. It's banjo song and smoke in your eye.
Read MoreI fly into Edmonton and on from there to schools in Lethbridge and Stand Off—passing through with gifts for them and soaking it up, reading, stocking their library with Missy and airborne resistance.
Read MoreIf you're writing an environmental revenge fantasy, the big story, for now, is under that big sky. Or one of the big stories. All that black gold. A guy from Fort McMurray said over and over again I don't know what happened. Everything's gone.
Read MoreI don't know if it's fair to feel like the luckiest person in the world when there are people in the world who fall from a third-story window and get caught by a street vendor. But I do, god, I do. The book launch is tomorrow.
Read MoreThe dying bees, the Antarctic melt, the mountains of old tires, the toxic belch of factories that make Batman bobbleheads for Happy Meals. Off-gassing couches! Cancerous tinned tomatoes! Our breastmilk is poisoned. We live absurdedly, ridiculously.
Read MoreNow for what's next: lists and mulch and manuscripts, because god knows I'm behind. I'll keep fussing over a growing posse of literary rejects because hope is a warm doughnut, ultimately empty but sweet enough to keep you from drifting off at the wheel.
Read MoreI am the barest minimum, clean clothes picked out of a clean-enough pile, supper at 9, bedtime when the sun comes up. When it was time to finish, I wrote from 10 AM until 4:30 AM. 60,000 words edited in 18 hours without a blink.
Read MoreAdult fiction? More pirates, a book three? Poetry? That plus editing, photographing, teaching. The year is stacking up. Somebody burst in and threw all the windows open and it was fresh and bracing and I think, maybe, it was all of them doing it all at once.
Read MoreFor the next month or longer, I'm banned. No edits, no additions, no tweaks. The story is in my editor's hands and from there, we'll figure out what to do with this heavyweight, set a deadline, and look forward to line editing and production.
Read MoreI wrote a book, a little one, and I want to exist beyond all hope. I want it so badly. I need it to be set to paper and illustrated and bound. I've submitted it to the loveliest publisher. Now I'm trying to forget I ever wrote it.
Read MoreTwo weeks since the manuscript. The first draft is in her hands but it's got holes and dubious underpinnings and while I've obeyed the stay-away order in principle, I've reorganized and rewritten the story fourteen times in my head.
Read MoreOne month later, I've gone from 24,483 to 43,287 words. I am a cross-eyed hunchback. Camille, a Dread Crew reader and daughter of a friend, sent me a much-needed package of nudge notes.
Read MoreThe next book turns its attention to Missy, you might already know. She travels the world and meets new and strange pirate crews, and becomes a spy herself, and encounters a mystery -- in that order. We'll still have Dreads, and Eric and Joe feature too.
Read MoreMissy is unimpressed. She’s not one for fussing, nor for waiting. She wants to crash a flying beast and engage in illegal sabotage and write to Eric on coded postcards and it’s all stuck at the bottleneck of me. She tries to help, but I'm thick as bricks.
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