I'm often asked by other writers how I get my work done.
I ask them the same thing, looking for the same guidance. For all of us, it's a constant challenge. We need all the fairy dust we can find.

I recently visited Stephen King.  Not the man himself but his black, wrought-iron, bat-studded fence outside his red home in Bangor, Maine.  That day his front driveway gate was open, yawning, daring, but I didn't trespass.  

There is much to think about when considering a sex scene as a novelist.  How graphic?  Should I include clinical detail or cut to the waxing moon?  

At Brasenose College at the University of Oxford there is a famous chapel with an unknown secret door. It’s in the high wooden wall that separates the entrance narthex from the chapel proper, to the right of the stairs that lead up to the massive organ that rises to the gorgeous fan-vault ceiling.