Inspired Insomniac: Voices in the Dark by James Bruno

Listen to them – the children of the night. What music they make! ~ Bram Stoker, Dracula

James Bruno
Author James Bruno

My most productive writing comes after the sun goes down. Like some manic ghoul, I type madly away, becoming more inspired as the moon rises and the sky blackens. I routinely write until 3:00 am every evening. If I’m on a roll, I’ll stretch it out till 4:00 or 4:30. I come to life at night. Somewhere in the family tree, there’s no doubt vampire blood.

This routine started out as necessity. Working at the State Department or at one of our overseas missions, of course, I was tied to an 8:15-5:30 (more like 8:15-7:00, or later) schedule. Right after dinner, I’d lock myself away and write and get as much in as possible before midnight. On weekends and holidays, I’d let myself go and succumb to my inherent vampire ways. I owe much to Newt Gingrich. His shutting down the government in late ’96 – early ’97 gave me a precious, uninterrupted month to crash on my first novel, Permanent Interests. I also grew a beard and dressed every day like a fugitive from justice. My wife at first was indulgent, then less and less so as my appearance descended into that of a character from Deliverance. Oh, men! Continue reading “Inspired Insomniac: Voices in the Dark by James Bruno”

Is Truth in Non-Fiction Really Just Perception? by Jen Smith

What is truth? Is truth a fact? I can look at my car and say there are four tires. That is a fact. I can look at my car and say it’s red. That is a fact. Or is it? Another person could look at my car and say that it is burgundy. Is burgundy red? Some would say yes and some would say no. So then, what is the true color of my car?

Truth really is a grey area. Recently I attended a writer’s workshop at Grub Street Boston about breaking the rules in non-fiction and a great discussion formed around this topic. At one point the instructor gave us an example of an author that took the liberty to change the number of heart attacks that happened during a particular time, in a particular state, and also the name of a bar in a journalistic piece. The author’s reasoning was that the number four sounded better than eight and Bucket of Blood, as a bar name, was cooler than the actual name of the bar.

Interestingly there was a student in the class that was fine with the number change but thought changing the name of the bar was outright wrong. I felt the opposite. Changing the name of the bar was fine to me but changing a statistical number was appalling to me. I found our contradicting views fascinating. Neither one of us was right nor wrong, we just had different perspectives based on our experiences with the world. Continue reading “Is Truth in Non-Fiction Really Just Perception? by Jen Smith”

Of Knights and Knaves – by Perry Wilson

Author Perry Wilson

I like a good debate. There’s nothing better than challenging assumptions over a bottle of wine. What I like most about it is that you walk away afterward and the discussion can be over. Not so on the old Interweb. Things can get crazy when people polarize around an argument. Take the argument for, or against, traditional publishing.

What does it look like?

A knight stands at a fork in the road. His armor is dented, some of it hanging by hinges. He holds a nicked and rusty sword.

Approaching the knight is a man dressed in running gear, black spandex running pants, the latest running shoes and a sweat wicking tee shirt with ‘best seller’ scrawled across the chest in permanent marker. He comes to an abrupt stop as the knight raises the sword. Continue reading “Of Knights and Knaves – by Perry Wilson”

Story Time: Twenty

Author Garrett Hise

Twenty

by Garrett Hise

One

They were just children when they met. Even then he was drawn to her. She used to run through this field, her blonde hair would bounce about her shoulders and he would chase the sound of her laughter until the suns parting rays bid them to go home.

Two

She was fourteen years old the first time he kissed her. She hadn’t even seen it coming. Truth be told, neither had he. The shock was enough to stop them from talking to each other for an entire week.

Three

When she did finally speak, he watched her lips move. The words she spoke that day were never heard. That fleeting child like first kiss occupied his mind so deeply. It still does. Continue reading “Story Time: Twenty”