A Writer's Moment
A look at writing and writers who inspire us.
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“I sat down one night and wrote the line rock, rock, rock everybody. I was going to use the word ‘stomp’ – like rock, rock, rock and then ...
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“I wrote about a bird that cleaned a crocodile's teeth. The story was so good that my teacher could not believe th...
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“Nothing is too small. Nothing is too, quote-unquote, ordinary or insignificant. Those are the things that make up the m...
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“To share our stories is not only a worthwhile endeavor for the storyteller, but for those who hear our stories and fe...
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“Treat your life like something to be sculpted.” – Larry Niven Born in Los Angeles on this date in 1938, Laurence...
Tuesday, September 29, 2026
A Writer's Moment: 'Write what you most enjoy'
'Write what you most enjoy'
“Sometimes
the characters develop almost without your knowing it. You find them doing
things you hadn't planned on, and then I have to go back to page 42 and fix
things. I'm not recommending it as a way to write . . . but it works for me.” – Barbara Mertz
Born in
Canton, IL on this date in 1927, Mertz wrote under her own name and the
pseudonyms Elizabeth Peters and Barbara Michaels. A noted academic, she held multiple degrees
in ancient history and Egyptology, including a Ph.D. in the latter field, and
one of her mystery series (written as Peters) focuses on a professor who holds
a degree in Egyptology.
Mertz wrote
71 mostly mystery and suspense books, although two of her nonfiction books on
ancient Egypt also are still in print. More than a dozen of her books were
nominated for or won best novel or best mystery awards, led by Trojan Gold;
Naked Once More; The Last Camel Died at Noon; and Night Train
to Memphis.
Named an Anthony
Awards Grandmaster for mystery writing in 1986 and Mystery Writers of America
Grandmaster in 1998, she wrote bestsellers right up until her death in 2013. When asked why she liked writing mysteries,
suspense and thrillers instead of “scholarly” works, she replied that it was
what she most enjoyed.
“There are
lots of things to write about,” she said, “but I think it would be difficult to
write books I don't like to read.”
Monday, September 28, 2026
A Writer's Moment: 'A great path to vicarious living'
'A great path to vicarious living'
“Fiction,
for me, is sort of a protracted way of saying all the things I wished I said
the night before.”
– Christopher Buckley
The only
child of conservative author and speaker William F. Buckley, Christopher
was born in New York City on this date in 1952 and made his own way in the
writing world as a noted humorist and satirist. He has written 20 novels, published in 16
languages. Among his best-known books
are The White House Mess, No Way To Treat A First Lady and Thank
You For Smoking – the latter made into a popular movie as well. His most recent satirical novel is Has
Anyone Seen My Toes?
Buckley’s
journalistic pieces have appeared in many top magazines and newspapers, and he
also has done considerable work in public relations. “In public relations,” He said, “you live
with the reality that not every disaster can be made to look like a
misunderstood triumph.”
Buckley says
writing is a great way to live a life you might only imagine. “You live vicariously through your
characters.”
Saturday, September 26, 2026
A Writer's Moment: Another catalyst for inspiration
Another catalyst for inspiration
Every
writer knows autumn begins when the stirrings of nature and its changes cause
us to write things down. For some, it creates a condition of melancholy;
for others exuberance. Regardless, it provides yet
another catalyst for inspiration.
Nobel Prize
winner Albert Camus, more often known for melancholy, was so moved by an autumn
walk that he wrote, “Autumn is a second spring when every leaf is a
flower.” And, for Saturday’s Poem, here’s another viewpoint from
award-winning writer Judith Viorst.
Summer’s End
One by one the petals drop
There's nothing that can make them stop.
You cannot beg a rose to stay.
Why does it have to be that way?
The butterflies I used to chase
Have gone off to some other place.
I don't know where. I only know
I wish they didn't have to go.
And all the shiny afternoons
So full of birds and big balloons
And ice cream melting in the sun
Are
done.
I do not want them done.