One of the things I love/hate about writing: my critique group fails to understand a scene which I have polished to perfection.
How frustrating to discover the words I have chosen do not convey the feeling and facts which I want to share! I reject the temptation to think my writing group is a bunch of blockheads. And the fun begins.
The difficulty in communicating precisely fascinates me. That has not always been the case, particularly in my early years of marriage. It was painful learning to say to my husband, “I’m sorry my words were not clear” instead of “I can’t believe you didn’t understand me!” (You blockhead.)
Communicating is difficult because of the amazing and mysterious complexity of being human. It seems like a miracle when people’s unique experiences, personality and intellect meet in understanding. And yet the more personal a story, the more universal its apprehension.
On one level I enjoy finding the right words in the way a child enjoys playing a game. It’s fun, in and of itself. On another level, I enjoy touching that profound universality of experience that makes us human.
That’s what I love about writing.
I'm fascinated to discover little-known stories of history. Stories of people and events that provide a new perspective on why and how things happened, new voices that haven't been heard, insight into how the past brought us here today, and how it might guide us to a better future.
I also post here about my books and feature other authors and their books on compelling and important historical topics.
Occasionally, I share what makes me happy, pictures of my garden, recipes I've made, events I've attended, people I've met. I'm always happy to hear from readers, in the blog comments, by email or social media.