Every so often, I get the eerie sense that I’ve wandered into a scene from a Lewis Carroll book. It happened once at my first job, my senior year in high school. There was a woman working there alongside me who could have passed easily as a ringer for the Queen of Hearts—complete with the... Continue Reading →
“Slowly I Turned”: Writer as Human Cannonball
In my place of work, we often use a certain term for the feeling one gets from workdays that begin at a hectic pace: being shot out of a cannon. This year, May is the month when my life gets shot out of a cannon. I am trying to finish a novel. I am primarily... Continue Reading →
“Slowly I Turned”: Nomad’s Land
Peregrination seems to be written into my genetic code. My family moved a lot when I was little, and in the past thirteen years I have moved six times. I suppose this is only to be expected. One doesn’t become a writer for the sake of money (normally there isn’t any) but for the love... Continue Reading →
Howling At The Moon
[Deep breath.] WhenwillIhavetimetoworkontheideasthatI’vestockpiledImeanIhavesomanyprojectsbutIdon’thave thetimetodevotetothem,letalonetheenergy,becauseIhaveadayjobthatstretchesmytemperament beyondrecognitionwithcoworkersforwhom,shortofdivineintervention,Ifeellittlebutantipathy, andeventhoughIhavedivineinterventiontogetmethroughtheday,Istillcomehomecompletely wipedoutattheendofeveryworkdayandthatshootsholesinthetimeIdohaveforworkingonmywriting, notthatitmattersbecauseIdon’thavethefirstideahowtosellmyworkeffectivelysothatIcancreatea footholdformyself,whichiswhatitwilltakebecausewhatIwritedoesn’tquitefitthebasicpigeonholesofits genrewhichisalsothestoryofmylife,really,andI’veneverbeenabletoshakefreeofthatperpetualoddness that,true,somepeoplelearntoenjoyanyway,meincluded,butthefrustrationstillsometimesbuildsup becauseaslongasI’maliteraryoddityI’llneverbeabletoestablishacareerthatenablesmetodedicatemy timetodoingwhatIlove(writing,ofcourse)whilestillmakingaliving,andthatdiscouragesmenoend, whenwritingissupposedtocheermeupafteraharddayamongequallydifficultpeople. [Deep breath.] Okay. Rant completed. I feel a little better now. Back to spring cleaning.
“Slowly I Turned”: I Dream of Bacon
Once upon a time, when my doctor decided to try out a certain medication on me, she warned me of potential side effects. One of them: unusually vivid dreams. Naturally, my inward reaction was, How will I know the difference? Virtually all my dreams are unusually vivid. In fact, I know I’m under too much... Continue Reading →
“Slowly I Turned”: How to Recognize Love from a Very Long Distance
BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP * THE FOLLOWING IS A TEST OF THE MORAL EMERGENCY SYSTEM. THIS IS NOT A RHETORICAL QUERY. IF THIS WERE A REAL RHETORICAL QUERY, THE FOLLOWING QUESTIONS WOULD NOT REQUIRE ANSWERS.* BEEEEEEEEEEEP * “Love your enemies, do good to those who hate you, bless those who curse you, pray for those who abuse you.”... Continue Reading →
“Slowly I Turned”: Scars of a Clown
I wake up in the morning at five. Lights on, sweats on—time for morning exercise. I beat the air with my fists as if it were my enemy, all to prepare myself for the real fight ahead of me. Punch, punch, block, dodge, kick, ha! Thank goodness that’s over. Now I can shower and put... Continue Reading →
“Slowly I Turned”: Flashbacks, or Candy Doesn’t Need To Have A Point
Today I spent some time looking at my big-picture timetable for some of my current writing projects. I don’t remember if I’ve given the matter serious consideration before; it’s so terribly easy to let the struggle for a daily rhythm become all-important. I have other issues with big-picture planning that tend to deter me, but... Continue Reading →
“Slowly I Turned”: The World Turned On Its Head
One each appointed day (multiples of seven, if you hadn’t noticed), I’ve been trying to cultivate the habit of coming home from work, turning on my computer, and putting together each post for this blog before I do anything else. Today, I had such a soul-sucking day that I just couldn’t write. Sometimes when this... Continue Reading →
“Slowly I Turned”: Day Jobs and Interruptions
No question about it—my day job provides the biggest hindrance to my writing. The job and I are deeply unsuited for one another. One reason: I can never find any time to myself. I’m an introvert in the extreme. People drain the energy right out of me. I need to withdraw in order to regain... Continue Reading →
H. M. Snow, Fantasy Novelist 