The thing with writing, or what I have been led to believe is that whatever time works, works. You are not set to a wound up to go off when the clock strikes. But there should be some writing - because the only way to get better at something (you can say it with me) … Continue reading How to jealously guard your writing time.
She had never considered herself the kind who would fight over a boy. Why would she? There were plenty of boys out there. The trick was in picking the right one. Then getting them to stay. But the lament here is that she had never thought she would be one of those girls. Yet here … Continue reading the unspoken art of moving on
This is what Death must feel like. Not that she knew what death felt like. She had obviously not been dead before but she figured it felt like this. Strange. Yet even that word felt incomplete. "Hurry up!" "Coming." Deuce called back, unhappy that she was being called away just as the story was getting … Continue reading Conversations with Death