Readers ask when I’ll write my own story; they say, when they read my books, it’s obvious I have one to tell. My answer has been something like, “I lived it…and that’s why I write fiction!” Or, maybe, “Real life can suck… I’d rather make things up!” And, by the way, that is basically what novelists do; we make stuff up. But as I occasionally reminisce about my childhood, I often get strange responses – raised eyebrows, screwed up faces, or alas, utter disbelief. I’ve slowly realized, that while I can make up stories all day long – there is truth to that saying, about real life, “You can’t make this sh-t up!” So, here, in no particular order, are some true tales of Tammy Seley, the kid, and maybe some about Tammy Seley Elliott, the supposed grown-up, with perspective from that kid’s lens. It’s all true. It all happened somewhere along the way.
Greetings! Get your coffee, or your scotch, your Kool-Aid, or your whatever-you-drink; this is a long one. But a good one! Here we go… Nature versus nurture is an age-old controversy with compelling arguments for both sides. In the landscape of our family, I’ve never been able to fence off a section predictable enough to… Read more
Language and semantics are fascinating. Although different places have unique phrases or words, some things are universally understood. Like, “What do you do?” Or “What does she do?” Or, as it applies here, “So, what did your dad do, anyway?” For him, as I’ve made clear in this blog, that’s a loaded question…but for most Americans,… Read more
I’ve gone delinquent, if not rogue, on my writing responsibilities; thus, this entry is quite overdue. Besides leaving our mountain for a solo road trip, I’d already stepped away from the novel I’m writing…it and the characters decided to take off in a very different direction than I’d originally planned. It happens. It’s interesting (although… Read more
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