Writing
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The Traveling Yogi
A couple of years ago, I began a morning meditation routine that started on Facebook and somehow migrated to TikTok. I rarely mention my books, maybe make a passing comment to my writing, and concentrate on a word for the day that either inspires or encourages me. It began as a spoof to see if I could find that many inspirational words, but throughout the time I’ve been doing it, it’s become a balm for my soul. A very selfish moment that I reminded myself to do every day, mostly because I needed the comfort. Selfish of me. Then some of my friends mentioned how a particular comment I’d made…
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Writing from the Beach
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Write On The Beach 2022!
I’m living where I always wanted to: a view of the ocean out my windows. Now, I want to share this space with other writers who need to get some work done and might not have the space or funds to do so. I’m opening my second bedroom for certain writers on a donation basis. My way of giving back. I hope that whoever stays here in this place with Izzy and me can write and breathe and relax. If you want up-to-date information, join my FB page for the Writer’s Room.
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COMING SOON! You Are Divine: Searching for the goddess in all of us
Sometimes books are written in a matter of months (that hasn’t happened to me, but I have friends who whip books out like they’re as simple to produce as a signature.), and sometimes it takes years. I have several novels I’ve been working on for at least ten years. And then there’s You Are Divine. This book has gone through several iterations throughout the past couple of years, but the version which will be published in January by Llewellyn Worldwide is the best, I do believe. The book is meant to offer feminine beings a glimpse of what divinities looked like when they were female. Those deities come from every…
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Changes in Latitude: Writing Under an Assumed Name
Alone every night in that cinderblock house during a frozen upstate New York winter, I realized I was on my own for the first time in my life. No family members to take Jen for a few hours if I needed to work or do errands. No friends around the corner to grouse to at night. I’d never lived in a place more desolate or quiet. The scraggly field in front of the house turned brown as the days began to cool off and August rolled into September. The house settled into black corners by 4:30 if I didn’t turn on a few lights. The bedrooms, on the back side…
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Writing Inspirations: The Beginning
Nehru jackets in thick, scratchy brown wool. Thirty-two-inch bell bottoms my father wore in the Navy. His double-breasted pea jacket, the warmest jacket I’ve ever worn. A Roaring Twenties-style hip-length top over a pleated skirt that came to mid-thigh, pink and ivory colored with stripes accenting the top’s v-neck. A vintage 1940s brown tween winter coat, large circular buttons holding it snug from its skinny waist to its Peter Pan collar. A full-length winter wool, brown monk’s cloak. A floppy pink felt hat. A tan suede fringe jacket with a 12” beaded swing. The more I wanted to fit in, the more unique my clothes became in Junior High and…
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A blast from the past: sharing my essay Amistad (originally published by Provo Canyon Review, 2015)
Hello, Everyone! I’ve decided to share some of my previously published essays, since it’s nice to have them all in one place, but I’ll still continue to blog about writing when the spirit moves me, so stay tuned for that, as well. Sometimes I go through phases and write in different genres. I’ve been a novelist for years, but lately, the essay form is luring me once again. More on that later, but for now, here’s an essay I wrote after facing death in the eyes. Nothing tougher, huh? Cheers, Dawn ~*~ Amistad When both my best friend, Carol Quinto, and her husband, Mike, were simultaneously…
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Writing from the Beach
I’ve been writing since I was nine, and throughout this long, often rocky, career, I’ve always dreamed of writing in a house near the beach. I imagined a cold, winter beach, where I was the only person on a long stretch of sand. For me, staring at a stretch of water, preferably one that crashes and roars, gives me permission to write the stories that have rattled around in my head every day of my life. When I chased grasshoppers in the empty lot across the street from the projects where I grew up, I longed for those days when my father would pile all of us into the Buick…
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Writing Through the Tears
The Virginia Center for the Creative Arts in Sweetbriar accommodates approximately 24 artists on a piece of property that rambles lazily over hills and pastureland. A hundred-year-old stone barn houses studios of all shapes and sizes so that everyone can be satisfactorily creative. Every evening after dinner, the artists, musicians, writers, composers, and artisans who have worked all day on their various projects commune in a room where a piano gets center stage and a fireplace fills one wall. The fire reflects warmly off a wall of sliding glass doors that look spectacular when the fire spreads to the roof . . . but that’s another story. At one of…
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Writing from the Beach
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Marketing Your Book in . . . many easy steps
Get out your calendars! Though each book is different and each new app brings another option for selling the words I’ve struggled to produce, after selling more than thirty books, I know that if you don’t have a plan for marketing your book, it’s going to be difficult – if not impossible – to reach your potential readers. Here’s what I know for sure, as Oprah says. I know for sure that you have to start selling your book as early as possible, and you can’t let up for at least three-six months after it’s published. Here are some ideas to get you started – but use your own imagination…
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Writing from the Beach
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Keeping Goals and Dreams In Front of You
I guess I’m getting a little sentimental, because I have a landmark birthday coming up, and it’s surprising me how impacted I am by it, but I’ve been thinking a lot about the future (as well as the past). For a writer, to look to the future means to evaluate where you are now and what you would like to be when you grow up. I guess I’m not grown up yet, because I’m still looking at a very long list of wishes and dreams and hopes and goals. I wonder sometimes what would happen if I finish this list. That’s a scary thought. During the last two years, I…
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Writing from the Beach
