Paige Hawthorne: Blog

The first time I read my stuff is as I write it. Then, I read each chapter for the second time after the story is finished and I've started posting.

In between, some odd chap, thornfoote, mumbles around and about for a while.

If I were a serious writer, if I had the time, and most especially the talent … if, if, if. (Insert something here about fishes and wishes.)

Of course I'm also distracted by sex, drugs and rhythm & blues.

Paige

P. S.

Some readers can be such pluckers of nits. One guy faulted me for using 'payed' as the past tense of pay. Prosaic misconception on his part. Erudite folks, as most in here are, will recognize the propriety of 'payed' as engaged throughout Balkan interpretations of Vedic meter. Elementary.

My own (real life) father, like KCPD Homicide Captain Dave Jennings, is a catholic reader. And I followed. By the time I was 14, I was bright enough to realize it would be a year or two before one of my short stories was accepted by the New Yorker fiction editor.

Of course I never wrote a story, let alone submitted one.

So, around 20 years later, SOL is my New Yorker equivalent. The publishing standards here seem to be a bit more liberal than the magazine's - - everything I've sent in has seen the light of day. So far.

But … fuck it. I write, people read. So there!

Still.

Paige

I recently revisited Stephen Hunter's Point of Impact, circa 1993. And currently I'm reading a new one, G-Man. Wow.

Now I don't feel bad not being able to measure up to one of the best adventure writers in the world. No, scratch 'adventure.'

But his books are a clear indication of how far I am below the talent level I should be striving for.

I guess I could drop this whole writing pipe dream. Go back to boys and booze and blunts. Except. My real life Walker and Vanessa, my son and my love.

Fuck you, Hunter.

Paige

I write without a map. My interior monologue takes me to unexpected places. Most are pleasant, some unexpectedly dark.

I don't know if it's showing up in my writing yet, but my thinking is becoming a little more … complex. Textured. The twin disciplines - - thinking and writing - - are sort of forcing me to examine life more intimately. Which is kind of cool.

This little journey … well, I'm not sure where it's leading me. But maybe, just maybe, I'm becoming a more critical thinker. Observer? Recorder? Something.

Paige

Sparse prose v. dense.

Robert B. Parker and Elmore Leonard sketch out a scene and let your imagination fill in the details.

Thomas Perry and Robert Crais provide more info. But less than Dennis Lehane and John le Carré.

Depending on which book I've just read, I think, "Boy, I need to do it this way." Although that's embarrassing, like being only as smart as the last person I talked with.

What do you guys think?

Paige

P. S. I was informed, quite accurately, that this forum isn't the Paige Hawthorne Blog Site. This particular emailer suggested that I cease and desist for a while. Like, forever.

Well, forever seems like a pretty long time, so I probably won't afford him that particular pleasure. But he does make a point. While I hesitate to disappoint my legion of fans, both of you, that guy may be right. You may be seeing less of me, blog-wise. For a while. Unless you don't.