In case you haven’t been able to tell from my last blog on writing trauma, I’m back to working on my manuscript. And that’s not all; I’m also working on a number of short stories. It’s probably the weather—the rain, the shorter days, and the fact that I’m all bundled up in sweaters and socks. I believe I do my best writing during the winter. Since I’m refining my manuscript, I’ve been thinking a lot about the central conflict and how different subplots and elements need to cohesively come together to make a good story. It’s super easy to get lost in a character’s journey, the drama, and whatnot. In…

Okay, so this one’s a popular request. I’ve got many emails and comments under my post, On Writing Emotions to cover how to write trauma in fiction, so here we are. The reason this took me a while is because there’s a lot at stake here. You can easily fall into a Colleen Hoover-shaped rabbit hole where you’re romanticizing something that’s not a joke.  Of course, that doesn’t mean that you completely ignore the subject, but when you’re writing trauma, you need to be more intentional. When done right, it helps readers connect with your characters and fosters empathy around complex issues. When done wrong…I believe we have plenty of…

I recently reread the opening line of my manuscript and regretted everything. Seriously, it wasn’t bad—it just didn’t hit. Which sucks because my editor thinks it’s pretty good.  But—and this is a me problem—I do this thing where I start comparing what I write to my favourite authors, and then spiral. And that’s a rabbit hole that can really mess you up if you’re not careful. Because let’s be real: what you and I think is bad, might actually be great. I mean, my editor certainly thinks so. But that’s not the first thing that comes to my mind. I’m really critical of my own writing even though I’ve been…