On Writing and Storytelling: Another Stop in the ‘Gratitude Tour’

Gratitude Tour, Stop #3: Denise Longrie

Every writer hopes—quietly, secretly—that somewhere out there is a reader who truly gets what they’re trying to do. Someone who doesn’t just read the words, but hears the music underneath them. For me, one of those rare readers is Denise Longrie.

Denise is a California-based writer and poet whose work ranges from the imagined landscapes of Always Coming Home to the literary archaeology of By FireLight: A Guide to Speculative Fiction Before 1900. We first crossed paths many, many moons ago on Epinions, back when online communities felt like small, unruly salons where writers, reviewers, and oddballs found each other by instinct. Somehow, we never lost touch.

When I began writing the Garratyverse, Denise became one of the first people to step into that world with me. She didn’t just read the stories—she listened to them. She understood the emotional architecture, the silences, the regrets, the small mercies. And when Reunion: Coda was still a messy, overgrown draft, she volunteered to be its beta reader. If certain subplots work well—or exist at all—you can thank her. If they don’t… well, that’s partly her fault too.

Her reviews of the three Garratyverse stories remain some of the most perceptive and generous reflections I’ve received:

Reunion: A Story

Denise called it “a lyrical tale of regret for chances not taken,” a novella that speaks to anyone who remembers the one who got away. She understood immediately that the heart of the story wasn’t just Jim’s grief, but the ache of almost—the weight of a sentence never spoken.

Reunion: Coda

She described the novel as “richly textured,” a blend of new love and long-delayed forgiveness. She saw the warmth beneath the winter-gray skies, the way music threads through the narrative like a second voice. She recognized the emotional duality at the center of the book: the man Jim is becoming, and the boy he once was.

Comings and Goings – The Art of Being Seen

Her review of this story remains one of my favorites. She called it “a lovely tale of empathy,” a portrait of connection in a moment when Jim feels invisible. She understood Kelly not as a romantic figure, but as a witness—someone who sees Jim clearly at a time when he can’t quite see himself.

What I appreciate most is that Denise reads with both intellect and heart. She notices the craft, yes, but she also notices the humanity. She sees the characters as people with inner weather, not just narrative devices. That’s a gift.

So today, I want to thank Denise—for her reviews, her insight, her early faith in a story that could have gone in a dozen wrong directions, and for being one of the first readers to walk alongside Jim Garraty and understand what he was trying to say.

The Gratitude Tour continues, but this stop means a lot. Some readers help you feel seen. Some help your work feel seen. Denise has done both.