- A Kitty in the Henhouse
- Chicken Scratches and Other Writing Tips
- Eye Candy
- Happenings at the Henhouse
- Music of the Coop
- Pop Culture
- Squawk Authors: Latest and Greatest Books
- Squawk Friends
- Squawk Interactive: Captions, polls, etc
- Squawk's Favorite Books
- Stranger Than Fiction (Real Life)
- Teresa Reveals the CONFESSIONS OF A TRUE ROMANTIC
- CHRISTINA DODD HAS A TERRIBLE, HORRIBLE, NO GOOD, VERY BAD DAY
- Christina Dodd Exposes the Glamour of Booktour
- Christina Dodd Treats You to an Extra Excerpt of IN BED WITH THE DUKE!
- GIRLFRIENDS JUST WANT TO HAVE FUN Contest!
- Connie Brockway Posts Incriminating New Video
- SPOIL ME! BY CELEBRATING THE GOLDEN SEASON’S PUB DATE, TODAY!
- Teresa Says It Loud and Says It Proud: I WRITE ROMANCE NOVELS!!!
- CHRISTINA DODD SAYS “IT’S CHRISTMAS! DUCK!”
- Teresa Needs Your Help to Choose the SEXIEST MAN DEAD!
The most common question asked an author has got to be, “What is your process? How do you *work*?” Every time I’ve been asked this question I’ve come up with a different answer because I don’t have a process. And ugly as I know it to be, sometimes I just say stuff ‘cause it sounds good. Oh, don’t look at me like that. I’m not this way by choice.
I go to workshops by famous authors, I listen, I nod, I agree and I leave convinced that if I were to just follow the pearl strewn path to success the famous author has kindly dropped to lead me and others like me to the promised land of authorial efficiency, I would be a happier and, more importantly, more productive. Everything makes sense in a workshop or an interview or, hopefully, a blog. There’s a beginning, middle and end. There’s a problem and a solution, there’s a question and an answer. But writing isn’t like that. At least not for me. It’s a mess. An ugly Petri dish experiment run amuck where a damp and fetid imagination (mine) is seeded with a few kernels of inspiration (sometimes mine) which I then spend months attempting to colonize into a good Roquefort blue. See what I mean? Even simple analogies run away screaming.
I have friends who actually do have a process. They do not understand me and I do not understand them. They have been known to call me up and when apprised of how I have spent my day, hang up in disgust. You know who you are. I think this is unfair. Do you think I want to be process-less? Do you think I want a Petri dish imagination? Do you think it’s pleasant to anticipate Roquefort and end up with penicillin? It’s not. It’s frustrating, inefficient and downright embarrassing. But it’s also the truth and in the future if you should ever hear me expound upon my process in an interview or article, be advised that that I am without a doubt a> talking about the process that worked for that single book b> talking about someone else’s process that sounded really good c> outright lying d> expressing a hope because I, Connie Brockway, have no reliable, recognizable, habitual process (but neither does, Terri, so there! And Christina had one but she packed it up when she moved and hasn’t unloaded yet. And Liz’s process is on hiatus and Eloisa’s process is Italian and hasn’t learned to speak English yet and Lisa’s is still catching up on its sleep after being on tour.)