Pieces of a novel about Hillary, a 42-year-old corporate attorney, who leaves her 17-year marriage to financier Collin for Ava, a 25-year-old art student
It’s been a day, and I’ve been examining the whole novel-writing experience. That’s not to say that I think it’s over. Of course I am not assuming that I got it right the first time and that this first complete draft won’t need any revising. For instance, I can already picture Bethany, Andy, Kirstin, and […]
I am more afraid of this than I am that Sachen will simply not wake up one morning and I will be forced to remove his sweet, dead body from the end of my bed. I doubt that it would be easier if he died mid-yell with that “Fuck you!” look on his face, but […]
I rewrote the beginning. You can read the original version here and the new one below. Please let me know which you prefer and why, unless you prefer the old one. Then just keep your trap shut. I’m starting over. He was sitting at his—their—usual table, in the center of the restaurant, away from the […]
It occurred to me this morning for the first time, which is ridiculous, that perhaps I should not have made Ava an artist given that I know NOTHING about art. I can’t imagine why I did this. I keep getting hung up on her passion because I do not know how to represent it. I thought it […]
Ava told Hillary that she loved her almost entirely by accident. They were eating pizza slices the size of their heads and Hillary was drinking beer in a plastic cup for the first time in 20 years when a skinny boy with jet black hair, torn jeans, and a black t-shirt walked into the pizza […]