Dudes. Y'all caught me on a day when I have no idea what to write about. At first this post was going to be about research, because as a historical fiction writer, you'd think I'd know something about it. But about three paragraphs in I realized I probably don't know anything about research that any other writer doesn't already know.
Delete, delete, delete.
Then I thought maybe I'd re-post something I'd written for my personal blog a few years ago. It's about studying and practicing a craft, which is something I think about a lot. As a former goldsmith and current writer, I'm all about perfecting my craft with consistent practice. I've spent a lot of time completing creative endeavors, but I've never thought of myself as an artist. For some reason I prefer to think of myself as a craftsperson. To me, craft means it's about the work, not some ethereal talent I can't quite put my finger on.
Here's the post if you're interested:
Writing and the Craft of Sushi Making

And it feels fucking fantastic.
Considering my fellow nominees in the category (THE BLACK HOUR by Lori Rader-Day, KILMOON by Lisa Alber, ICE SHEAR by M.P. Cooley, and THE LIFE WE BURY by Allen Eskens) it is indeed an honor just to be nominated. But regardless of whether I win the award, I'm just so proud of MISTRESS OF FORTUNE. I don't often feel fully confident in who I am or what I do, but I know it's a damned good book and I'm thankful for the recognition.
There. If I'd just have written about this in the first place I could've spared myself an afternoon of irritation as I fumbled with possible post topics. The real purpose of this post, I think, is to remind myself that it's okay to admit publicly that I'm proud of my work and even to toot my own horn on occasion. Or wait--doesn't that cause blindness?
Something like that.
Whatever. I suddenly have a hankering to re-watch "Citizen Kane" so with that, I'll see you next week.
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