Holly Lisle: Writer

Category: Nightmares

  • Not much sleep — but so into the story, I forgot to stop: 1408 words, 54,404 total

    Not much sleep — but so into the story, I forgot to stop: 1408 words, 54,404 total

    I had a rough night (one of those where you need sleep, and want sleep, but it won’t come) so only managed to doze for a few hours by the time I woke up this morning, and I was not as perky as I prefer to be. I did not have my “+10 Well-Rested Bonus”…

  • Trauma, memory, and my main character – 1283 words

    Trauma, memory, and my main character – 1283 words

    I got some of my favorite words in the series this morning. (1283 of them, in fact.) My MC (main character) had a BAD morning a couple chapters back, and finally made it back home in this chapter — worse for wear, but not as much so as one would have reason to expect. She’s…

  • Setting Out A Bowl For Jim Baen

    Just over a year ago, on October 28, 2008, I had a dream that is still changing my life. My first publisher, Jim Baen, who died on June 28, 2006, paid me a visit. Now, I’m not pagan, Christian, or otherwise religious in any way, shape, or form. I’m not a believer in things. I’m…

  • Dreaming the Dead

    It was 1:37 AM when I woke up. It’s 1:48 AM right now, and I’m still shaky. I dreamed I was visited by Jim Baen, and by someone speaking for him. I didn’t know his intermediary, but Jim Baen was my first publisher, and he taught me a huge amount about the business, and, frankly,…

  • Lunch Break Update

    I finished yesterday’s work at 12:12 this morning. I was ragged and bleary-eyed, but I got the words for the day, added a new scene that I’m fairly happy with—though I’ll add things as I do the type-in—and I fell into bed and dreamed that I was the last vampire hunter, and I was constantly…

  • I had a dream

    FADE IN: EXT. SIDEWALK – DAY Through her eyes, we see the hands and forearms of a young woman pushing a wheelchair. In the wheelchair, we see the back of a bald, liver-spotted head and the thin, vein-roped arms of an OLD MAN. Young woman and OLD MAN are moving at a brisk pace along…

  • Ha-HA! I figured out how to do it

    Making the Culture Clinic usable in a clear, linear form seemed impossible. So much to do, so much so show, so much to make. And no one needed everything all at once, but someone would need everything sooner or later. Fluffing the curtains didn’t help, walking in circles didn’t help, knitting helped a little. The…

  • WWIII

    Article sent to me by Jim Woosley. Funny thing is, I said the same thing to Matt about three weeks ago. Guess I’m not the only one thinking it.

  • The Cliff, the Killer, the Talking Dryer, and Morgan Freeman

    So … I was driving through this dense forest — we’re talking medieval forest here, trees with trunks wide as houses, the sky blacked out by branches and leaves. Spooky place, but you don’t mind spooky places so much when you’re in a car. Still, I was driving pretty fast, because in a place like…

  • Me and the French Revolution

    So. I’m wearing these ludicrous shoes. Pink, satin-bow-bedecked. I think of them as dancing slippers, but they have a heel, and they’re about the most impractical shoes I’ve ever seen. And this dress that is no doubt gorgeous, and expensive. Silk and tucks and bows, long full skirt, all sorts of underpinnings. I’m eighteen years…