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Dialogue from the past can be a real pain in the…paragraph.

If you want to make Medieval, Renaissance or even characters from the age of Mozart believable, you have to be like a tightrope walker. Characters who say "thee" and "thou" can't say also say "you" in the next sentence. Here is part of a poem by Geoffrey Chaucer, born in 1340,  who wrote in Middle English. Book Of The Duchesse I have gret wonder, be this lighte, How that I live, for day ne nighte I may nat slepe wel…

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The Writing Process

I had dabbled in writing since maintaining a food blog for over six years. Tackling a novel is a whole new ballgame. Wait, let me backtrack a little. I’ve always been a dreamer. I remembered my early childhood when my father always scolded me for being absent-minded. Even then I would think up scenarios in my head and appear to be lost in my own world. In high school, I even started on a science fiction novel which I, unfortunately,…

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Just who are these Redheads, Anyway?

With Cailín, the first book of my debut series Anam Céile Chronicles, releasing in little over a week, I thought I would dedicate this next month’s blog posts to subject matter I created the series around.  Aislinn, the heroine of this series, is a stubborn Irish lass, and naturally, she has red hair— something which I myself can also relate to.  Redheads have had a shaky history fitting in socially, going from being persecuted, ridiculed, and even put to death…

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Reflections

 Reflections The last few days have been, to say the least, quite eventful and exciting. As I sit here in my office, (built by the world’s most wonderful husband), I am thinking about how much my life has changed in the past eighteen months, five years, ten years, and I am just in awe of it all.Ten years ago, I was adding two cans of water to a can of chicken soup to make it stretch. If we had crackers to…

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A Special Goodbye: Charles Moss

A Special Goodbye: Charles MossI'll never forget the Sunday afternoon three-wheeler rides with our little gang of misfits. I was the youngest, I think, in my teens. Every Sunday we would meet up at my grandfather's store, each other's houses, or at some point in between. We all rode Honda three-wheelers. Our destination might be a sandpit, logging trails, river beds, or just a nearby mud hole. Most afternoons, at some point along the way, we would gather in a…

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