17 or so Minutes with Author Tina O’Hailey

I recently had the good fortune to spend seventeen or so minutes with author Tina O’Hailey.
Tina’s spends her days as a professor at Savannah College of Art and Design. Ah, but the rest of her life is spent writing fiction (she’s written technical/academic books, too. We forgive her. We did the same in our distant past, when we were young and foolish).

 
You can find Tina online at:

And of course, right here…for seventeen or so minutes.

Enjoy!

 

I’m Arm Casted by Armand Rosamilia

Want to hear me rolling with the punches? Give a listen to Arm Cast Podcast: Episode 341 – Carrabis.

 
I’m fascinated, listening to it. We talked a bit about the business Susan and I had, my past writing, re-evaluating past writing, practicing my writing, learning to describe something in five words instead of fifty, taking courses, reading books, perfecting my craft, and applying my research talents to writing good books.

No, really, we did.

And then we talk about the publishing world that existed when I wrote trade-technicals (late 1980’s-early 1990’s) and how it is now. Specifically, what’s changed and what’s not.

Give a listen and let us know what you think.

(and thanks)

Shaman Story Chapter 3 – Truth Like Wine

Read Shaman Story Chapter 2 – Listen


Shaman Story Chapter 3 – Truth Like Wine

 
Grandpa kneels on the ground and pats the freshly turned earth where he buried the cigarette, then looks up into the few cirrus clouds forming horsetails high in the blue sky. “People will come to you, asking you questions. Be careful what you tell them.”

“You said to always tell the truth.”

“To us. To me. To others…”

He lets it hang and I’m unsure. “Do you want me to lie to them?”

“No, Gio. Never that. Truth is like wine; a few sips and you smile and nod. Too much and you get a headache and your dinner goes plah on the floor.” He makes a funny face and I laugh, then gently turns me to face him. “You must tell the truth, Gio, but listen to them. Pay attention when you answer. They will let you know when they’ve had enough truth, then you stop.”

“How will they let me know?”


Greetings! I’m your friendly, neighborhood Threshold Guardian. This is a protected post. Protected posts in the My Work, Marketing, and StoryCrafting categories require a subscription (starting at 1$US/month) to access. Protected posts outside those categories require a General (free) membership.
Members and Subscribers can LogIn. Non members can join. Non-protected posts (there are several) are available to everyone.
Want to learn more about why I use a subscription model? Read More ch-ch-ch-ch-Changes Enjoy!

Why It Works for Me – Loren Eiseley’s “The Fifth Planet”

This is the sixth st in a series I’m doing wherein I discuss why a particular piece of writing works for me, aka, this piece of writing taught me something about writing, encouraged me to be a better writer, engaged me, captivated me, educated me, et cetera.

As I’ve written elsewhere, it’s one thing to know something is good, it’s a better thing (in my opinion) to know why it’s good and then be able to copy what’s good about it, to learn from it so you can be as good and (hopefully) better.

This time out, Loren Eiseley’s “The Fifth Planet”.

 

 

Shaman Story Chapter 2 – Listen

Read Shaman Story Chapter 1 – What Do you do?


Shaman Story Chapter 2 – Listen

 
My grandfather taught me to listen.

Didn’t matter what people came to him for, he’d sit me on his lap, put a finger to my lips and whisper into my ear, “Ascolta.” Listen.

Have a sick child? Having a problem pregnancy? Is your horse lame? Your cow not producing milk? Is your husband a little worthless when it comes to his job in bed?

Come see Grandpa. He’s got the cure.

He got in trouble when women came to him because their husbands were impotent.

All those smiling women leaving the house? Today he’d be a YouTube sensation. Or on Oprah.

Or in court.

But he never did anything to them. Never even touched them. Sometimes he’d clap his hands, sometimes he wave his hands around in funny patterns, as if writing in the air.

Sometimes he’d close his eyes and hum some old Sicilian tune.

One time we were tending his roses in the garden behind the house. I pointed to the shed. “Do you want me to get the hose and sprinkler, Buppa?” Behind the shed, I heard the bees in the two hives Grandpa kept for honey.

He shook his head and held me close. “Close your eyes. What do you smell?”


Greetings! I’m your friendly, neighborhood Threshold Guardian. This is a protected post. Protected posts in the My Work, Marketing, and StoryCrafting categories require a subscription (starting at 1$US/month) to access. Protected posts outside those categories require a General (free) membership.
Members and Subscribers can LogIn. Non members can join. Non-protected posts (there are several) are available to everyone.
Want to learn more about why I use a subscription model? Read More ch-ch-ch-ch-Changes Enjoy!