Writers in the Storm

By Dr. Diana Stout, with Llewella Forgie

Receiving and giving critiques is an important writing step, especially for new writers. Belonging to a critique group is one of the fastest ways you can grow and improve your writing. Not only do you receive feedback, but you can learn by reading and critiquing the writings of others. 

I’m often asked by writers if they should get an MFA degree, wondering if it would help their writing. It’s one way to receive (and give) critiques, but an MFA can be costly and requires three years of your time. A major plus is it’s a terminal degree—equal to a Ph.D. in other fields—meaning you can then teach writing classes at the university level. 

Critique Groups Operate the Same

From my critique experiences as an MFA graduate, having been in several critique groups outside of the classroom, and having started a critique group at the request of a nationally named bookstore, I can tell you that all of these critique groups operate the same way.

Manuscripts are exchanged, comments are written on the copies shared at the previous meeting—whether electronically or as hard copies. And then, the manuscripts are returned to the author after comments and opinions have been expressed at the meeting. 

My MFA classes generally had 8-12 students, where each student would present a different manuscript several times during the semester for critiques. The problem I had with the class critiques is that we wrote for different genres, thus their feedback didn’t always apply to my genre. Generally, I was writing commercial stories while they wrote literary stories. 

One such example was when I had drafted a short story where the students agreed I was using an incorrect story structure, a structure I had purposefully chosen. The professor told them that my story, “Bread Pudding,” was an example of a recipe story, where each ingredient became a metaphor for the events of the elderly woman’s life, thus many of their comments became invalid. 

Likewise, even a small critique group made up of individuals writing in different genres can be problematic.

At the same time, having different genres can provide different perspectives or a detour from normal standards and can offer a learning/growth opportunity for all members.

Are You a Good Fit?

Getting a good critique is a lot like looking for a marriage partner. Typically, that means you want critique partners who write in your genre or who have a good knowledge of it. Also, you want critique partners who are at your level of writing. 

For example, an advanced group made up of published writers doesn’t want to be spending their time teaching a new writer. Nor does an advanced writer want to be in a group of novice writers, otherwise, they’ll be teaching and receiving little in the way of a critique.

So, how can you find a critique partner or critique group? Start a small group with two or three other writers or find a group that will let you join. Before you commit to any partner, however, you may want to vet each other to determine if you’ll be a good fit for your genre and your level of writing.

How Two Critique Groups Vet New Members

While talking with a group of writers who belong to my accountability write-in group, (a topic I wrote about in August 2024, “Accountability Can Be a Writer’s Best Tool”), one of our members, Llewella Forgie, told us how her group was looking for a new critique partner to replace a member who had left. Their three-step process is amazing.

Their process eliminates taking a chance on a writer who could prove to be a huge detriment later, even if that person is known to one or more of them.

Forgie states that when she joined an existing children’s book critique group, the group had dealt with an earlier, uncomfortable situation where the writer turned out not to be a good fit. Consequently, the group created a new policy to protect the group—provisional membership. 

Forgie attended her first meeting as a provisional member. Nothing was guaranteed at that point. As a result of her demeanor and contributions to the critiquing, she was invited to join. She had shown them that she would be a good fit for the group.

Since then, she has joined a second critique group and both groups now use this multi-step process when admitting a writer into their midst.

The Multi-step Process

Step One

Prospective members provide a writing sample. It’s an attempt to eliminate new writers who require far more teaching assistance than the groups want to provide. The groups want writers who match their skill level. While individuals within the groups don’t mind helping new writers outside of the critique group, they prefer skilled writers for their critiques. A writing sample quickly reveals a writer’s skill set.

Step Two

Writers who pass Step One are invited to a meeting. The purpose is to discover if the writer’s personality will be a good fit for the group. While a writer can have top-notch writing skills, if their personality isn’t a good match, the results can be disastrous. I’ve seen wonderful groups dissolve because a new member came in with unknown toxic behaviors, thus disrupting the dynamics. 

Step Three

The provisional member attends the meeting, reads and critiques submitted work like everyone else. This step is crucial, allowing the group to see how the new member provides criticism and how they respond to criticism. 

A writer who takes criticism personally or becomes defensive won’t be a good fit. Additionally, the provisional member needs to provide decent feedback, otherwise the group isn’t benefitting. A writer who offers nothing useful won’t be a good fit for the group.

In Summary

These three steps are how organizations hire personnel these days. Provisional with a trial period. 

It makes sense, then, for critique groups or even individuals looking for a partner to operate the same way. These provisional trial steps can prevent a group from being torn apart. So, what can you do when wanting to start a group or join an existing one?

1. Find an individual or group who shares your genre.
2. Exchange pages or a chapter to determine if your writing skill sets are similar.
3. Meet in person or on Zoom and chat for a brief time to see if your critique goals are similar. 
4. At the first in-person meeting, exchange verbal feedback with a return of your comments in their manuscripts.
5. And then, if all goes well, set up your guidelines for both future critiques and the meetings.

If at any point you discover right away that it doesn’t feel like a good fit, it’s easy to back away and try again elsewhere or with different writers.

What has been your experience with critique groups? Great? Not so great? Disastrous? 

Does this three-step process make sense to you? Would you ever start a critique group using it? Does it make looking for a critique partner a bit easier?

Important Note from the WITS Team

Did you get this post in your email box? WITS is updating the way we send out our updates. To make sure that you don't miss any updates, click here.

About Diana 

 Dr. Diana Stout finds joy in helping other writers and is working on her fourth resource guide for her Finding Your Fire series. Early this year, she published books two and three: CPE: Character, Plot, & Emotionand its companion book, the CPE Workbook, that show how character, plot, and emotion are three equal pillars of storytelling. Writers love the chart that compares the terminology of several storytelling experts and their plot point positions. 

Michael Hauge states that “Diana brilliantly reveals and edifies the uniquely powerful principles of plot and character.”

To learn more about Diana, visit her Sharpened Pencils Productions website and check out her Recommended Reading page where she provides links to books and articles that have helped her become a better writer.

About Llewella

When Llewella was young, her father read her the Oz books, the Narnia books, The Hobbit and the Lord of the Rings trilogy. Her family watched PBS costume dramas and murder mysteries on television together. In college she began attending Science Fiction conventions. All that comes together in her writing, as she writes fantasies set in historical times that involve stopping criminals.

Llewella has a Bachelors in English Literature and a Masters in Teaching. She has been called an “amazing editor” and also “a 21st century Maxwell Perkins.” She was one of a few developmental editors for the anthology Turning Points by Off Campus Writers’ Workshop which came out in June 2021, and she reprised that role for the anthology Meaningful Conflicts: The Art of Friction, also by OCWW, which came out in April 2023. Both anthologies have been finalists for awards.To learn more about Llewella, visit her Llewella Forgie website.

by Sandy Vaile

Writing fiction that immerses readers in the setting and actions is a subtle skill that transforms mediocre narratives into memorable stories. But what kinds of descriptions make a story world feel real without slowing the pace?

In The Art of Fiction by John Gardner, he argues that appealing to multiple senses rather than just visual description draws readers into a scene more fully, and they get to experience the world firsthand, so the narrative becomes more dynamic.

Whether you're describing sweeping landscapes, epic fantasy worlds, intricate character movements or tense emotional drama, there are six techniques to create vivid descriptions without falling into dull lists.

Six powerful description techniques 

1. Replace tired clichés with fresh imagery. 
2. Engage all five senses. 
3. Avoid description dumps that slow the pace. 
4. Revitalise descriptions through movement. 
5. Choose meaningful details that add depth. 
6. Choose emotive verbs that affect readers.  

#1 Replace Tired Clichés with Fresh Imagery  

A cliché is a commonly used phrase or opinion. 

We use them all the time in life because they are a communication shortcut and others immediately understand what we mean. But relying on them in fiction comes across as not bothering to put any effort into fresh descriptions. 

Examples of Clichés 

• Cold as ice;
• Butterflies in the stomach; 
• Cut the air like a knife; 
• Lump in her throat; and 
• Black as night. 

To make descriptions fresh and meaningful, consider: 

• The underlying emotion or viewpoint.
• Making descriptions specific to the Point of View character. 
• Choosing one meaningful detail rather than multiple descriptive words. 
• How to use metaphors and similes to change existing clichés. 

Evokative Metaphors and Similes

Metaphors and similes are useful for comparing two things that are not related, creating a fresh and vivid image in the readers mind. They are symbolic likenesses to objects, actions or emotions. Aim not only to make comparisons that describe something but also let them reveal more about the character and their mood.

Examples of Fresh Descriptions 

Cliché - Instead of ‘cold as ice’ try: as cool as a tombstone under a winter’s sky. 

Cliché - Instead of ‘cut the air like a knife’ try: the atmosphere was taut like a bowstring, ready to snap and hit me in the face. 

Metaphor – Love is a battlefield. Or, That runner is a machine. 

Simile - His smile flickered like the dying light of a candle in the wind. Or, As fast as a cheetah. 

#2 Engage All Five Senses

Don’t forget to utilise all of the senses to create multifaceted descriptions. (Not necessarily all in one paragraph.) It’s easy to rely on what characters see, but when you fully immerse yourself in a scene there will be sounds, smells, textures and tastes that can add richness to the reader experience. 

Compare these descriptions:

• Lily wandered through the shadowy forest, the soil damp beneath her feet. (A dark, damp forest is realistic but it’s been done a million times before.) 
• Lilly picked her way between tall pines and over gnarled roots hiding in the forest shadows. The cool air was welcome after the burning sun and brought with it the scent of crushed pine needles and damp soil. (We’ve livened this description up by focusing on specific features of the forest and engaging the character’s sense of smell and feel, to help readers picture this forest.) 

#3 Avoid Description Dumps that Slow the Pace 

When we stop the story to include a large chunk of description in one place, it’s the same as an ‘information dump’. It slows the pace by diverting the reader’s focus from what’s going on in the story. 

While I appreciate beautiful descriptions as much as the next person, when there’s too much in one place it can weigh the story down with unnecessary images of things that aren’t important to the character or plot. By the time readers get back to the action, they might have forgotten the thrill of anticipation they’d felt before. 

This detracts from the energy of the story and is particularly problematic if it happens during a high-stakes or action scene. Effective pacing relies on balancing description with action and dialogue.

#4 Revitalise Descriptions Through Movement

It can be tempting to have characters arrive at locations, and then use narration to describe everything they see. The problem with this approach is that readers tend to lose interest after you’ve listed a few items, no matter how eloquent the prose or vivid the imagery. Worst case scenario, it sounds like a list and totally kills the pace.

Example of Listed Descriptors 

Sue surveyed the sad street with uneven paving along the footpaths, shabby houses with colourful hydrangea bushes out front and driveways filled with weeds.

Not too bad, but readers may feel like they are sitting in their living room, eyes closed, trying to picture the scene you are describing. But it’s not the same as being there and getting to see, hear and smell the street for themselves. 

Instead of halting the story to insert description and list everything they can see, it’s far more immersive when characters move through and interact with their surroundings, enabling readers to learn about the story world  organically, through the characters senses. 

Comparison of Immersive Description 

Sue wandered along the paved footpath, careful not to trip on the tangle of weeds that pushed bricks up here and there, and peered into a yard that was overrun with hydrangea bushes being strangled by kikuyu grass. It was like her childhood memories; only vaguly familiar on the surface. One tentative step at a time she followed the meandering length of an uncoiled hose that snaked along the cracked driveway, pausing to right a forlorn tricycle that had been tipped on its side and forgotten, and brushing flakes of rust from her fingers.

Putting the character in motion gives us more scope to make this description relevant to who she is and what she’s doing in the story. It invites readers into this run down neighbourhood, allowing them to experience what’s in it through the mind and senses of the character, and their perspective of the world around them.  

#5 Choose Meaningful Details that Add Depth 

When choosing which details to include in a description, consider what would have meaning to the point of view character and/or plot. 

Your descriptive choices should go further than what can be seen and:

• Reflect the story’s tone and themes. 
• Reveal character traits, personality, emotional state, motivation and past. 

Rather than randomly assigning a red dress to a character, consider her lifestyle, beliefs and preferences.

• A horticulturalist might wear a floral dress. 
• A vivacious actress might wear a red dress with ruffled sleeves. 
• A woman who is self-conscious about a scar on her arm might choose a long-sleeved dress. 

Let’s look at how we can build on a basic scene and layer in meaningful details that are indicative of the scene you want to portray. 

Example of Layering Meaningful Details   

• Let’s start with a simple description – Matthew stepped into the parlour he hadn’t seen in years. 
• Then get the character interacting with the environment - Matthew stepped into the parlour he hadn’t seen since he was a child and brushed a thick layer of dust from the surface of the coffee table.
• And add meaningful details – Matthew stepped into the parlour he hadn’t seen since he was a child and held his breath as a rush of memories and the scent of decay assaulted him. He trailed a finger through a thick layer of dust on the coffee table, leaving a river of glossy teak in its wake. 

#6 Choose Emotive Verbs that Affect Readers 

When we deliberately choose emotive descriptive words it:

• Reduces our reliance on adverbs and multiple adjectives.
• Tightens descriptions so they are immersive yet succinct.
• Supports the mood in the scene to build atmosphere.

Examples of Emotive Verbs 

• Replace adverbs with specific verbs  - Instead of she walked slowly across the room, try she sauntered across the room. 
• Choose dynamic verbs – Instead of she ran fast, try she sprinted. 
• Enhance the emotional tone - A cheerful summer day or a bleak cloud-filled sky.
• Allocate emotions to inanimate objects – The restless sea surges back and forth, or the abandoned house loomed with quiet hostility.

Transforming dull descriptions into evokative and immersive experiences that bring a story world to life requires carefully selecting meaningful details, showing characters interacting with their environment and appealing to all of the senses to create fresh and vivid imagery. 

What's your favorite example of an evocative and immersive description in fiction?

Are you stuck in a rut of writing novels you never finish or aren't sure how to fix?

Join Sandy’s supportive Facebook community for Female Contemporary Fiction Authors who want to plan and finish novels traditional publishers can’t resist! 

About Sandy

Sandy Vaile is an internationally published author with decades of experience in the fiction industry, who empowers female contemporary fiction writers to plan and finish novels traditional publishers can’t resist, through fiction coaching, courses and developmental editing.

She writes romantic suspense for Simon & Schuster US and in her spare time is a motorbike-riding daredevil with a sense of adventure. She is lucky enough to live in the McLaren Vale wine region, so there are plenty of excuses for cheese platters and bubbles. 

www.fearlessprose.com 

Image by Paul Stachowiak from Pixabay, text added by Lynette M. Burrows

by Lynette M. Burrows

Relationships are a large part of what your readers relate to because we can’t escape them. We all have relationships with other people. Whether they are friends, acquaintances, enemies, or lovers, your characters’ relationships can break a reader’s suspension of disbelief or indelibly mark your reader’s heart. This is the second of a two-part series to help you treat relationships in your story as their own entities and how to create character relationships that will make your readers want more.

In Part One, we discussed treating your primary character’s key relationships as an entity of its own, types of relationships that are possible, how many relationships to cover in your story, and how to make the most of those relationships. This month we’re discussing what makes the relationships you create between your characters believably real to your readers. 

Please note: I use the phrase parties or pair when discussing the relationship. Be aware that this is for clarity, but relationship entities can have any number of individuals with in it.

Commonality

In any relationship, the two parties have something in common. It’s often the reason they are together, why they like each other. Commonalities can be they’re interested in the same esoteric art. They share a hobby, a craft, or a skill. Perhaps they bonded over being the “new kid” in school, or a dislike of the same thing or people. The stronger or more bonded the relationship, the more things they share in common. 

For each significant relationship you show on the pages of your story, know what that commonality is and what it means to each character. It does not need to mean the same thing to both parties. In fact, it’s often more interesting in one character has a stronger feeling about that commonality than the other. 

You can also increase tensions. Perhaps the bond happened in the past and during the story, one of the two parties realizes she no longer feels the same way about their relationship.

The Glue Between Them

The commonality between the parties in a relationship is mostly about “why they connected.” Differences in personalities, trials and tribulations, growth of an individual, and outside influences challenge every relationship. If the relationship you’ve created is a long-erm or a forever-more relationship, there needs to be a sense of what keeps the parties bonded. What is the glue that binds characters together?

There are many things that can bind a relationship, including:

Family relationships

Family relationships are often determined by marriage or shared parentage. Families are also people with whom you have no shared genetics, but you grew up together (Foster kids, adopted, the sibling from another mother). Sometimes the friends you make become family. Think about how family relationships work in your life.

Psychological (and sometimes physical) needs

There are three universal psychological needs all humans have: autonomy, competence, and relatedness. They are necessary for our well-being. Often we have difficulty identifying our psychological needs correctly, but our needs steer us to make connections in order to fulfill those needs. In this, opposites really do attract.

John Watson and Sherlock Holmes are bound by their need for each other. Watson provides Holmes with a sense of humanity, a voice of reason, and occasional inspiration. Watson also has medical knowledge that Sherlock lacks. Holmes is a source of fascination and excitement for Watson. But Watson also needs a sense that he’s serving a greater purpose. He not only helps Holmes, he helps keep the greater community safer, and he records the cases Holmes solves to inspire and teach others.

In Lord of the Rings, Sam has been Frodo’s gardener for a long time. As they journey, Frodo depends on Sam to care for him. Without Sam’s loyalty and hope, Frodo wouldn’t have finished his task. Without Frodo’s example, Sam would not have developed the courage to try new things and neither of them would have survived.

In the movie, Rear Window, Jimmy Stewart’s character has both legs in a cast and depends on his nurse’s help. He physically cannot do most personal care tasks by himself. The thing to remember about this kind of relationship is that both parties need to derive something from the relationship. In this example, at first the nurse does not have psychological needs that get filled by the relationship, but she gets gainful employment and a client she likes and respects.

Time Already Invested 

This refers to those situations where two parties have been together so long that neither of them can think about separating from the relationship, even when it’s not the same as when it started. Think old married couple type of relationships. You know, the friendships where you’ve known each other so long that you complete each other’s sentences. 

Routines and Rituals

Routines and rituals are not the same thing. Routines are regular and necessary interactions for the relationship to work. A ritual is something significant to the relationship and each of the parties.

For example, for a busy working couple, one partner may be in charge of fixing breakfasts through the week, because the job doesn’t start until later in the morning. The other partner then fixes breakfast on weekends. Or in a relationship between friends, their routine may include gathering at one of the parties’ homes for a card game every Thursday night.

Rituals are things like a certain birthday toast made between friends. For a romantic couple, a weekly ritual might be date night or a candlelight dinner.

Shared History

Shared history can include shared trauma, an experience they shared that makes them feel disconnected from everyone else, or the day-to-day struggles of life. Friends might share the same teachers throughout elementary school. Or they might have worked the same after-school job. Perhaps they served in the army together.

Meaningful Differences

You don’t want any pair or group of characters to be too similar. Their differences in style, speech, and behaviors help your readers identify them. This is true particularly in relationships between your characters. You don’t want the individuals in a relationship to be alike, but making them different just to be different isn’t enough. The differences must be meaningful. 

How do you make meaningful differences? Let the differences between your individuals complement or challenge the relationship in ways that reflect the theme or are integral to the plot. You can express their differences in many ways, including in their strengths and weaknesses, their personalities, their skills, the way they resolve conflicts or approach new experiences or idea and their typical way of reacting to people and events.

Give Them a History

Every relationship, even new ones, has a history. This is more than a shared history. This is the history of how they met, things they did together, and times they bonded more or they parted ways for a bit. The reader needs to understand the history of the relationship, but if you dump in the whole history, it will distance your reader instead of draw her in.

There are many ways, other than using an info dump, to reveal the history of a relationship.

An Inside Joke or Code

We humans look for shortcuts everywhere, even in relationships. In a relationship, the shortcut is often an inside joke or a code word or phrase. 

An Ongoing Thing

Many relationships have an ongoing thing they do or say. It can be an argument, typically over something silly. Such as a memory a couple repeatedly shares with others, but one party always insists the event happened in the winter and the other party always replies, “but it was June.” 

 Familiar behavior

This refers to how the parties in a relationship address one another. Maybe they use nicknames like honey-bun and Tweety. Or they may use a formal way to refer to one of the party who isn’t present, such as “Me and the Missus.” It’s a way of addressing one another that no non-group member uses.

Familiar behavior also includes the tone of voice used, how often they touch (or don’t touch) one another, how they touch—is it intimate or casual? 

In long-term relationships, the parties know each other’s likes, dislikes, and habits. You can convey this by having one party cut the other’s sandwich into asymmetical parts because she knows that’s how party B likes it. 

Nonverbal Communication

We humans use nonverbal communication every day. Parties that have known each other for a long time have developed several ways to communicate nonverbally. You can use sustained eye contact or a “knowing look” to convey that two parties have known each other for a long time. A pat on the hand can mean calm down.

Doing something uncharacteristic for that person can also be a form of nonverbal communication. Think about things like how your character would feel if the partner who is habitually late every time, shows up early to an event that is important to her. 

How the Relationship has Changed

Time changes us all. Friends, frenemies or enemies…no relationship is remains unchanged either. Hint or show your reader how the relationship has changed since your characters first met. Don’t tell us about every minute change, only give your reader the significant ones. Sometimes a hint that it has changed is all you need.

Meaningful Scenes

A meaningful scene can be a big event or a tiny one. The meaning or significance comes from what your viewpoint characters think and feel about the event and how it influences the relationship between the characters and or the plot. A small but significant scene happens between Frodo and Sam at Bilbo’s birthday party. Sam pines after Rosie from a distance and Frodo encourages him to ask her for a dance. The scene in Little Women where Amy burns Jo’s manuscript is a more significant event to both characters. They each have to grow enough to move past their own hurt and anger.

Complicate Things

The members of any relationship do not always get along. In any good relationship, there is tension, minor and major disagreements, and moments where the platonic or sexual love between the parties is strong. 

For example, Frodo and Sam didn’t agree on whether to bring Gollum along on their journey. Frodo grows to distrust Sam and Sam grows more determined to protect Frodo from Gollum. When Gollum betrays Frodo, Sam does everything he can to save his friend and Frodo gains a new understanding of friendship.

You can also add incorrect assumptions, misunderstandings or conflicting motives to complicate the relationship. 

Time Apart

Testing your character relationships with time apart gives you opportunities to deepen character development, create tension, explore how each individual grows, and how time apart plays with their emotions. Make the time apart about the relationship. 

Give the characters time to reflect on their feelings about the relationship. Use that to help your characters get new perspectives on themselves as individuals and as part of a relationship. Use uncertainty and longing, internal conflict, and / or external obstacles to heighten the stakes, add complexity to their understanding of the relationship, and test their commitment and resilience.

Make the Relationship Matter

Making the relationship matter to your characters will make it matter to your readers. But how do you do that? 

Develop an understanding of the deep-down needs of the individual characters in the relationship.

Figure out how the other party in the relationship will meet that need.

Make the relationship challenge the individual members of the group.

The key to making the relationship matter is to let the relationship develop over the course of the story. Use dialogue and body language to convey what the relationship means to the individuals. Show the growing intensity of connection and meaning through changes in the dialogue and body language. 

The bottom line is connection. Connect your reader to your characters and show how the connections in your characters’ lives matter to them. Since your reader cares about your characters, they care about the people important to your characters.

Create a Relationship Arc

Finally, when you treat a relationship as its own entity, it needs an arc similar to a character arc. Figure out if the relationship will fall apart or still be strong at the end of the story. No matter the fate of that relationship, it does not need to have all the above attributes to be irresistible to your reader. In fact, too much detail may work to make the relationship appear unbelievable. Whatever you determine is the glue that holds your story relationships together, be certain it is strong enough to be believable within your story world. 

Ask yourself the following questions.

• Does the relationship get stronger or get destroyed by the end of the story? 
• What situation will make or break the relationship?
• How has the character of the relationship changed at the end of the story? 
• How has each party’s feelings and understanding of the relationship changed?

Creating Irresistible Relationships

Readers know their real-life relationships are complex so when they find fictional characters in similar situations, they can't get enough. 

Even in a story about a man alone on an island (Cast Away) there is a complex relationship. Tom Hanks plays Noland, whose connections in life are superficial. When he gets stranded alone on an island, his need for a relationship grows so intense, he turns a ball into a companion named Wilson. We infer Wilson’s personality from the dialogue and behaviors of Noland. We relate to Noland and feel his desperation not to lose his only companion. We grieve with Noland when he does lose Wilson and we cheer when after Noland is rescued he realizes he has hope and the skills for a better, more connected life in the future.

For your story to matter to your reader, they must care about your characters. Seed in bits and pieces that hint of complex relationships that matter to your characters and you will have character relationships your readers find irresistible.  

How do your favorite character relationships (in something you’ve written or read) show their complexity?

About Lynette

Lynette M. Burrows is an author, blogger, creativity advocate, and Yorkie wrangler. She survived moving seventeen times between kindergarten and her high school graduation. This alone makes her uniquely qualified to write an adventure or two.

Her Fellowship series is a “chillingly realistic” alternate history in 1961 Fellowship America where even the elite can be judged a sinner and pursued by the Angels of Death. Books one and two, My Soul to Keep, and  If I Should Die, are available everywhere books are sold online. Book three, And When I Wake, is scheduled to be published in early 2025.

Lynette lives in the land of OZ. She is a certifiable chocoholic and coffee lover. When she’s not blogging or writing or researching her next book, she avoids housework and plays with her two Yorkshire terriers. You can find Lynette online on Facebook or on her website.