Tag Archives: The Lost Pissarro

Weekend Writing Warriors: Sunday 1 February 2015 (The Lost Pissarro)

The night before Angie’s New York gallery opening, she and her mentor Florence hung the show. Florence told her the story of the mass witch-burnings in front of the Federal Courthouse in downtown Minneapolis. She spoke in hushed tones, even … Continue reading

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Goals: Lost Pissarro to be released Monday & cover reveal for nonfiction project

Upcoming fiction release on February 2 On Monday 2 February 2015 The Lost Pissarro will be available for purchase. Yes, timeline got bumped, due to technical issues. Nonfiction project will be released to beta readers on March 1 Those of … Continue reading

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Cover Reveal: The Lost Pissarro (forthcoming publication this week!)

Last night, finished the semi-final edits on The Lost Pissarro and commended my brainchild to the final reader (QA and continuity). This story, currently at 28,000 words, will be published some time this week! The Lost Pissarro: A Tale of … Continue reading

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Six Sentence Sunday, 6 January 2013 (The Lost Pissarro)

New York in the summer time. New York under a blazing sun that seemed to have transported itself from the New Mexico desert. New York broiled in a heat wave that reminded her of a glassmaker’s kiln. Waves of heat … Continue reading

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Genre Trouble: urban fantasy (the city as character)

My Brain Sister and Beta is currently reading my novella The Lost Pissarro. She had the following comments: “One of the things I thought was cool: it keeps in the spirit of urban fantasy because Minneapolis is a character. If … Continue reading

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Genre Trouble: The MFA I don’t have

I recently launched on the project of filing all of my written work in one place, since it was scattered all over my rather overstuffed apartment. My sister suggested that I pretend that I was going to get a new … Continue reading

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Six Sentence Sunday, 23 October 2011 (The Lost Pissarro)

“Of course she does,” Stavros said. “I looked her up. They haven’t found any of them,” She didn’t want to say aloud what she could all too easily imagine: she would die, and they would dismantle that tiny apartment, and … Continue reading

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Six Sentence Sunday, 16 October 2011 (The Lost Pissarro)

It was a shame there was nobody alive with that kind of spirit, she thought, but then Victorine and she wouldn’t understand each other. Only in paint and canvas. She read French, but spoke it excecrably. (And that was just … Continue reading

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Six Sentence Sunday, 9 October 2011 (The Lost Pissarro)

She still remembered her very first set of real brushes, and the marvel of being able to draw out of the messy paint some semblance of her own thoughts. “You’ve been trying to paint with house-painting brushes,” Florence had said … Continue reading

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Six Sentence Sunday, 2 October 2011 (The Lost Pissarro)

The hall was high and cool and dim, the lights set carefully to age the paintings as little as possible. Between the stone walls, the air filled up with centuries. She thought sometimes of an Egyptian tomb, and not only … Continue reading

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