Author: Moriah

How to start a war, part 1

Moriah

The cover of William Faulkner's book AS I LAY DYING.

I’m going to air my family’s dirty laundry because the whispers, half-truths, and manipulation that have been levied against my family—particularly my mother, who is innocent in all this—with people who’ve known us 25+ years who’ve believed it and never asked for our side of the story, has pushed me past my limit. So far, I’ve only been setting the record straight privately, and even then I’m not quite believed. Protesting too much is gauche even if you’re right, so I had decided to let it go, but my second-oldest cousin’s snubbing of my mother is the last straw.
You want to slap us in the stocks on the town square, Aunt Susie? Fine. But I have a platform you don’t.

In January 2025, my mother lay dying.1 She was mostly asleep, but when she was awake and willing to speak, her mind was all there. She doesn’t remember any of it because her IQ was doing the heavy lifting. That’s how brilliant she is.

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“Twice.”

Moriah

Lion’s Share

“I am in my prime. Professionally. Financially. Intellectually. Not sexually. All things considered, my sexual prime came in the back of a 1970 Nova and went out the door of a judge’s office three months later.”

I crack me up. I really do. Yesterday, I randomly tweeted the above out of one of my books that I thought was one of my better lines. That’s Finn Marston,1 from Lion’s Share narrating the circumstances of his shotgun wedding at 19.

That’s funny (yes, it is; fight me), but the real story is in Lion’s Share opening line.2 Read more →

Of trigger warnings, spoilers, and tags

Moriah

Fiction has many purposes. Entertainment, education, enlightenment, and learning empathy are the big four I can think of right now. Good fiction should do all these things, sometimes without your notice. As you learn and grow, the lessons may get more subtle. Maybe the book is just brain candy,1 meant solely to entertain, and author didn’t mean to do anything Read more →

No man is an island

Moriah

TV title sequence: GILLIGAN'S ISLAND overlying a harbor with boats moored.No man is an island,
Entire of itself,
Every man is a piece of the continent,
A part of the main.
If a clod be washed away by the sea,
Europe is the less.
As well as if a promontory were.
As well as if a manor of thy friend’s
Or of thine own were:
Any man’s death diminishes me,
Because I am involved in mankind,
And therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls;
It tolls for thee.

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De gustibus non est disputandum

Moriah

Painting of a very scantily clad muscular man with long black hair, and in front of him a busty but more modestly clad woman with red hair.
The Clinch™, starring Fabio and whoever the girl is, I don’t know.
Genre romance gets a lot of shit: “lady porn,” “cliterature,”1 “beanflickers,” and garners complaints such as “porn for men is reviled because it’s visual while porn for women is celebrated because reading.” These epithets are applied liberally by men and women, no effort to differentiate subgenres is made, love stories are confused with genre romance,2 and to non-romance readers, romance is just code for erotica, even if there’s no sex in it at all.

While that is true, in general, women’s art is seen with some disdain regardless of what it is, how well it’s done, or in what cultural/societal conditions it’s made, I’ll save you the feminist rant. For now. You’re welcome. Read more →

I have wisdom to impart

Moriah

I’ve been writing a long time, ~fifty years, from when I was about five and started telling my ADHD-addled brain stories to put myself to sleep. I started writing real-person fiction (although I didn’t know what that was1) in fifth grade with a short story we were assigned and kind of just put my teacher in shock that it was so good—and that I’d dared to use a classmate’s real name. It really was good, especially for a fifth grader. Wish I still had it.

A 1960 Royal metal manual typewriterI chugged along through my teens, wrote some RPF wish-fulfillment I destroyed because my dad found a book proposal2 that disturbed him so he gave me an ultimatum: Let him read it or destroy it. Read more →

Subdivisions

Moriah
An overhead shot of a neighborhood of tract housing, with all houses spaced close together.

Justice had spent Saturday strolling around her lovely new neighborhood, marveling at the luscious lawns and tree-lined streets.

She had been walking on a concrete sidewalk in the shade of old trees. She could reach out and touch the feathery pink tufts of a mimosa tree. She could drag her fingertips across landscaping bricks. A soft breeze lifted her short curls and she could smell flowers and barbecuing and chlorine instead of cow shit. She could hear motorcycles and cars, screeching and splashing, lawn mowers and sprinklers.

She lived in a subdivision now. She felt something welling in her chest she couldn’t identify. It was almost too good to be true, but this wasn’t surreal like graduating from school to half-million-Monopoly-dollar job offers. It was normal, living here. ordinary. Like the new clothes that fit well and flattered her and lifted her out of the realm of poor country girl. Their plainness, this ordinariness was a gift Knox didn’t know he’d given her.

When she came upon the clubhouse with the pool and the attendant asked for her address, then gave her a pass to the gate, she found herself choking up. “Thank you,” she whispered, looking down at it.

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Tidbits

Moriah

Long ago, I went on a road trip with some friends to the Redneck Riviera. There were lots of things wrong with that trip including a severe sunburn, but I had fun.

We were at a bus stop in New Orleans where there was a girl about our age, mid-twenties, standing alone, waiting for a bus. We struck up a conversation with her. She was coming home from work or … something. Don’t really remember.

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The Proviso, 3rd edition: A confession

Moriah
The cover of The Proviso, 3rd Edition

It’s been seventeen years since I first published The Proviso, and a very hard ten since I put out the second edition. I can’t stop fiddling with these characters and I can’t stop feeling like I’ve missed something that will make the story richer.

My kids are grown and gone now, but not without a rough few years. Menopause has changed me in ways that have made me a stranger to myself—one I don’t like. My mother went through a medical scare that introduced a great deal of drama into my very large, previously drama-free family, which I never thought could happen. It’s not as intriguing in real life. I’m long past the pack’s age, and they are forever frozen in time. Read more →

The Cult of Traditional Publishing, Part 1: The math don’t lie

Moriah
Mormons aren’t a cult. I know because I’m a Mormon and I was in a cult. The cult had me far more brainwashed than Mormonism ever did or ever will.

I didn’t actually do the math.

I didn’t have the numbers for one side of the colon. But based on the proliferation of newsgroups, online critique groups, publishing forums in 2008, and the number of such denizens all trying to get published, I could guess. And it was huge.

Then there was me. 1 : x6214

Mormons aren’t a cult. I know because I’m a Mormon and I was in a cult. The cult had me far more brainwashed than Mormonism ever did or ever will. Read more →

Utilities

Moriah
A screenshot of a mostly clear desktop (Win 3.x green rivets background, task bar on the right), dated 04/15/2020.
Writhe in misery, fools! Obviously Windows 3.x green rivets is not a utility, but I think of it that way. I ❤️ it so much I’ve ported it from computer to computer for 25 years.

I love utilities. Love love FLOVE me some utilities. I have utilities for every single damned thing I ever did and do, and some are already built into Windows. I even have a utility to make whatever latest Windows OS look like XP. Yes, really. You will find that some of these are quite primitive and/or aren’t developed anymore. I. Do. Not. Care. They do what I want and when what I want to do is something I can’t do, I go looking for more utilities. No, I don’t want one program with all the bells and whistles. I want one program that does one task well. Read more →