Linda K Sienkiewicz

Writing life, line by line

Why Great Stories Need Flaming Chainsaws

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Ever wonder what elements in storytelling make a book catch fire? What makes a book impossible to put down? Flaming Chainsaws I found this gem of an essay on storytelling with an unlikely title,  The Dance of the Flaming Chainsaws, by Benjamin Percy and wanted to pass it along to my readers. Percy wanted to understand how The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo, which is 672 pages long, was … [Read more...]

The question I never answered: Babysitting at fourteen

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The Mystery of the Babysitting Gig Like a good babysitter, I showed up on time, put the kids to bed when I was supposed to, and, as a bonus, washed the dishes before the parents got home. I liked kids. I didn't yell at them or slap them across the face, like one babysitter had done to me years earlier. She'd brought cookies, and I told her they were "crummy," meaning full of crumbs. I … [Read more...]

Devil’s Food Cake and White Lies

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  Those nasty box cakes My mother had an electric mixer with a rotating bowl that blended her cakes into creamy smoothness, and she always let me lick the bowl clean. All that yummy raw batter *shudder* She had nothing but contempt for what she called box cakes: "Mrs. So-and-So made one of those cakes from a box for the party. It tasted terrible." I asked her what terrible tasted … [Read more...]

Chalkboard Messages

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The Start Last year, as the pandemic slowed life down and caused us to physically withdraw from one another, I dragged out a cheap chalkboard I'd bought for book shows a few years ago. On it I wrote messages for my neighbors and others who walked past our house, and put it on my front porch. I hoped to create a sense of camaraderie while we hunkered down. I believe in the power of small … [Read more...]

Creative Pursuits

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My friend Desiree Cooper shared this post on Facebook. What memories it brought back to me! Without doubt, my creative pastimes as a child shaped who I am today. Solitary Play For hours, I would lay on the living room floor and stare at our stucco ceiling. I conjured an old man's face, a horse's head, a fish jumping out of its bowl.... It's a wonder my mother didn't ask me what I was doing, … [Read more...]