I found it the other day and it's pretty spectacularly awful, not to mention full of very questionable content, though I think the real reason they didn't use it was they just didn't have that kind of space to waste. Tell us about your process: Pen, paper, word processor, human blood when the moon is full Get an idea, scribble it down in a notebook, transcribe the notes into a file, start hooking them together.
Mayor Fiorello La Guardia was the Nazi's greatest enemy
I also compose stuff in my head when I'm walking around, doing chores or working out. I try to average to 1, words a day when I'm working on something, and resist the urge to edit or rewrite until I've got a first draft. The point is to get as much down as you can, then go through, trim off the fat and find the real text underneath. I've been known to cut up to a third of my first draft, but a lot of that tends to be repetition and overwriting.
The order that things come to me in is almost always character dynamics, dialogue, scene action, plot fixes, then—last of all—retroactive world-building to explain exactly why it was necessary for things to go from [x] to [x]. What I've learned over time is to never let yourself think of your own writing as somehow sacrosanct, far too important to modify—because yes, a lot of people's advice or notes are so specific as to be useless, but if you keep getting the same reaction over and over from a bunch of different people, then this is something you owe it to yourself to take a look at.
It only counts as a defeat if people can figure out where you're going if you then go on to deliver on that prediction in the most boring and limited of ways.
Off Limits romance: Gemma’s shock admission (Part 6)
Don't do the latter, and there's no shame in the former. My latest work is We Will All Go Down Together: Stories of the Five-Family Coven from ChiZine Publications , a linked story cycle which reprints six previously published tales that share characters, setting, background and a mounting plot, finished off with three more stories and a climactic novella; the families in question are descended from three witches, a changeling and a magician, all of whom were once involved in an unsuccessful attempt to remake the world into a place where monsters were the default and humans the minority.
Since then, in the wake of one half of the coven betraying the other half, they've all ended up in Canada—the area in and around my home city of Toronto, Ontario, to be exact—and continued to feud, intermarry and interbreed for the last years, both passionately involved with each other and passionately committed to destroying each other: monster-killing monsters, in other words, who also happen to be as CanLit CanCon as a sack of blood-soaked maple leaves. These days? Either Rick Grimes or the Governor from The Walking Dead TV show edition only , 'cause they both seem like they get a little handsy and impulsive when they're drunk.
So actually maybe both of them, at the same time. I try to evaluate them objectively, figure out if there's anything to take away from them, and then I basically delete them from my brain.
- Tales from the Wilderness;
- No Limits (Gemma's Stories).
- Ossian in Goethes Werther (German Edition)?
- Reading (mostly) romance books down under.
- Harvest of Pumpkins and Squash.
- The story behind the Nazis’ greatest enemy: an NYC mayor.
- Tyranny of Niceness: Unmasking the Need for Approval.
I definitely don't link to them or take issue with them, ever. At one point, I actually kept a file with bad reviews in it, because I used to have a U. Ballard's Crash which had only quotes from negative reviews on the back and the inside flap and I thought that was totally bad-ass, but I gave up on that a while back.
Life's too short. Yes, there can be financial benefit to not branding yourself as only a writer of [whatever], but if worst comes to worst, you can always just change your name and write what you're gonna write anyways. Horror is comfort food for me.
I know that sounds odd, but it's true. It's like therapy, not least because it takes place under inherently safe conditions. Reading, viewing and writing horror makes me look at my fears as a spectrum, not some huge, solid, indigestible mass—to understand what scares me, and why. All of that dastardly scheming might have been for naught. Doctor Foster is more hot-blooded caper than serious drama. But there are limits as to how much silliness the story can endure. W ith so many fizzing fireworks chucked in, it was reasonable to expect that the mystery of the gift Gemma had given to Kate at the homecoming party would yield another cracking surprise.
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Actually, it was merely the speech Simon had made to Gemma on their wedding — a toxic reminder of his iffy romantic past, but surely not enough to drive Kate from his arms. How could Simon and Kate afford their megabucks mansion with its see-through walls and sci-fi kitchen? Actually they couldn't — Kate's dad was signing the cheques, while Simon's new business was bankrolled by his wife's godfather.
And thus Simon was revealed as an empty suit with a leery smile. Actually, it was that creepy grin that made it impossible to empathise, even as he rolled around on the doorstep of his former house feeling sorry for himself. Gemma's original plan was to seduce Simon and surreptitiously film the footage. Being the sneaky sort, he duly twigged the camera — only to carry on regardless.
This was presented as a heat-of-the moment decision.
- The Year of Dangerously Designing?
- FemDom Forced Feminisation Fantasies II.
- ISBN 13: 9780929636610.
- The Gentrification of Nightlife and the Right to the City: Regulating Spaces of Social Dancing in New York (Routledge Advances in Geography).
Yet now, Gemma was telling everyone what a love rat Simon was. In the cad's defence, we at least learned that Simon was conflicted about the assignation.
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Engaging in hate sex was lust, he explained to his wronged wife, "but finishing it was politeness". So that's Kate mind put to rest then. T he previous episode concluded with Tom Tom Taylor deciding that, for good or for ill, he should quit his sleepy hometown.
Yet this week he and Gemma were holed up at an Alan Partridge-esque Travelodge, desperate to return to their earlier lives. We urge you to turn off your ad blocker for The Telegraph website so that you can continue to access our quality content in the future. Visit our adblocking instructions page.