The Biting Truth About Transitions

When I was in labor, fourteen years ago, I almost bit my husband’s neck. We were trying that “dancing” technique that sounds so sweet in Lamaze class—my arms around his shoulders, his arms around my giant waist, rocking back and forth. But I involuntarily added another move: my teeth were bared and slowly sinking into…

Editors Rock (but I don’t think I’d ever want to be one)

Despite my English degree, I am not the queen of commas nor do I always break my paragraphs in the correct place. By the time I sent my manuscript to my now publisher, a year ago, the thing had been cut, revised, and rewritten countless times. A speaker at a writer’s conference once said editors…