I have to stop doing this. Every time I turn around, I’m saying goodbye to Maureen. Again. This time, she was minding her own business, saving the world she lived in, the world of Sharpsburg at the time of the Civil War. And this time, for a change, I didn’t want to disturb her. This…
It’s down to the wire for my first book. It’s been read, re-read, critiqued and a couple of editors have given it a quick look. Everyone has their favorite word, one editor told me. Mine is “felt.” So I’ve gone through my 70,000 words, changing or at least thinking about changing every single one of them. Most…
I’m busy editing the manuscript of my Civil War novel. Cutting and pasting, rewriting and rethinking. Oh yes, and occasionally cussing over why I can’t keep things straight in Scrivener. (I’m learning!) So I laughed when I came across this photo from my visit to the Morgan Library in New York last December. When Lord…
Megan didn’t care whether the storm raged for the rest of the night. Let the thunder roll through the valley. Let the lightning crash through the orchards. Let the rain force Antietam Creek to overflow its banks. None of it compared to the ire in her heart. “How can you be so stubborn?” she asked her…
Mary K. Tilghman writes 