The Crotchety Old Man

Tag: Glass Houses

  • Fabulous Five Blog Hop

    My dear friend Charlie Cochet invited me to take part in the Fabulous Five Blog Hop. No big deal. Answer five questions on my blog and I’m done. One of these days, I’ll learn that nothing is ever as easy as I think it will be. After much pondering, knuckle-gnawing, and hair-pulling — a high…

  • Five Steps to Becoming a Successful Author

    On this date just two short years ago, with a lot of encouragement from my friends in the Athens Writers Workshop, I submitted a query for my first novel. I waited for the “not what we’re looking for at this time” message to file with the rejections I’d already received for Glass Houses — my still unpublished memoir.…

  • An Old Fashioned Fourth of July

    To celebrate Independence Day, I looked for posts I’d done in the past about the Fourth of July family reunions that were so much a part of my childhood. I couldn’t find the posts. So instead, I’m running that chapter from my never-to-be-published memoir, Glass Houses. For background, Mom is the baby of eight Glass…

  • Dealing with Rejection

    When it comes to writing, practice makes perfect. The more I write, the better my writing gets. The improvement comes in terms of both the mechanical aspects–grammar, punctuation, and vocabulary–and in my ability to create a good story. In its current form, Glass Houses, the very first book I penned back in 2010, will never get…

  • My Wildest Dreams

    I wrote Glass Houses in 2010 and thought it was an absolutely brilliant memoir. My first choice agent rejected the manuscript. Then I tried a small gay publishing house that also turned it down. Solid in my conviction that the manuscript was perfect, the problem had to be with the blurb, synopsis, and query letter.…

  • My Section at the Bookstore

    I never dreamed I could write a novel. Sure, I’ve always loved to write. But a novel? My first project was a memoir for a reason. I didn’t need to write dialogue, develop believable and interesting characters, or come up with clever and intriguing plots. Just write about my crazy family and the rest would…

  • Like Thinking in French

    I took French in junior high and high school and plodded through three semesters of Russian in college. I never learned enough to think in either language. I was too busy in college. High school is a different story. Five years is a lot of time to have learned so little. I  should have been…

  • We’ve Come a Long Way

    After Christmas Eve takes place in late 1965 and early 1966 in Washington, DC. I didn’t have a choice. Details I wrote into Until Thanksgiving, before I knew there would be a prequel, forced my hand. I firmly believe in writing what you know. My first two books were set where I’ve lived. For the…

  • A Totally Different Experience

    A few years ago, the idea of writing a book intimidated me enough to keep me from even trying. The complexity of the task overwhelmed me. The job was too big to comprehend and I didn’t know enough to break it into smaller, more manageable chunks. I added “write a book” to the things I…

  • Back to Work

    It’s just been me and the dogs here at home this weekend. I took the opportunity to focus on me. My partner would say I do that all the time. He’s right. But when he’s not around, I really indulge myself. I could accomplish more without the dogs pestering me. They insist I stop whatever…