The Good Things of January 23, 2014

So many great things happened today! Here they are, listed, for your accessing pleasure: Starting at around 3:00 in the morning, I tore out of a sleepless torpor and dove into a blank Word document, eventually putting together my first draft at a query letter for DC (my novel project). It’s [read me!]

The Healing Power of Music

Tonight my mother and I attended an event entitled, “The Healing Power of Music.” I know, I know. I was also torn between rolling my eyes and bringing out my own celestial harp (a la Myrtle Snow, for all you AHS: Coven fans out there). But, hokey title aside, it was nothing short of [read me!]

Witticisms and Shimmer

“I’m just being me! I’m so crazy!” I feel like every time I delve into a community inhabited by artists (which, really, is not a specific qualifier for a proper community), I am overcome by a very cloying and peculiar brand of self-obsession. People seem to be so [read me!]

Chocolate Therapy

So a few nights ago I was working at the ice cream shop. A  grandmother brought in her two little girls, and the older one ordered the flavor called Chocolate Therapy. Seeing this, the younger one also ordered Chocolate Therapy, to which the grandmother (who had the best, bright red blow-out since [read me!]

Anne Lamott and Sand Castles

“You are lucky to be one of those people who wishes to build sand castles with words, who is willing to create a place where your imagination can wander. We build this place with the sand of memories; these castles are our memories and inventiveness made tangible. So part of us believes that [read me!]

Necessary Frenzy

I’m curious about how many writers are full time in their writing, and how many hold down some other ‘traditional’ role (such as, I imagine, hair dressing, or manning the salad bar at Hometown Buffet). A writer friend of mine and I aways giggle at the writers who, online, allude [read me!]

Think Of All the Blogs

Think of all the blogs. The abandoned ones specifically. The emaciated, pocked, forgotten vessels littered across the virtual ether, with a few heartfelt sentences rattling around in their dead bellies, with long shadows turned velvety in the crepuscular light. Crepuscular is a great word. I really [read me!]
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