The limp fishing lines of spider webs with their weighty beads of dew are welcoming fall in like enthusiastic Walmart greeters. As the wind whips leaves free, I lay in the hammock swinging, wondering how I can communicate the depth of my love for this season. Evelyn’s 35-lb body is limp on mine. At theContinue reading “Walking Into Spiderwebs”
Category Archives: Memoir
Book Writing Blues
Until my fingers hit the keyboard, I’m not writing; I’m doing what’s referred to as thinking about writing. It’s an inevitable trap to which many a writer falls victim. Its forsaken oubliette is filled with nothing more than angst, despair, and hopelessness. But in actual writing? There is a promise, a light in the darkness,Continue reading “Book Writing Blues”
Memoir Monsters
During weekly writing check-ins, the conversation usually goes, “Yep, been blogging. Going well. Writing in my book? Not yet. The doc is open and ready but no, haven’t got to it.” And as I talk I sink in the quicksand of disappointment and guilt knowing I could have but didn’t. That is until today. BeforeContinue reading “Memoir Monsters”
Crack Open, Please!
You’ll be happy to know the next step in my adventure of raising ducks is almost here! “Any day now” is the email response I just received from the lady on OfferUp about their hatching. So I’m like a kid watching the clock on the last day of school before the summer break. I can’tContinue reading “Crack Open, Please!”
Margarita Villa
Coffee shops used to be a destination, not just a driveby. I’d sustain myself for hours with a backpack filled with a charger, laptop, phone, book, and a little cash. I’d start off with a coffee, level up to a pastry, and if I sat long enough get a soup or panini. I miss theContinue reading “Margarita Villa”
I Am The Walrus
Do you know about the unreliable narrator? IT MESSED WITH MY MIND when I first learned about it; in my eyes, it was outright wrong for a writer to be intentionally deceitful. I naively expected writers to be the most honest reporters ever. So when I started a book myself I expected to remember, verbatim,Continue reading “I Am The Walrus”
A Beautiful Disaster
I’m pulling out memories like polaroid shots, then tossing them over my shoulder. Where is my life’s worth? There’s a turtle that’d-rather-stay-in-its-shell part of me tonight that wants nothing more than to kick rocks all by itself. I hope you don’t take this personally, but I’d rather be alone. I mean, if you like andContinue reading “A Beautiful Disaster”
Stick With It
My mother’s memory shook her disapproving head at the amount of shampoo I placed on my hand and lathered into my hair moments ago. Were you also taught not to be wasteful in specific areas of the household? It’s funny how those tidbits stick with you. And how, even though I’m a million light-years awayContinue reading “Stick With It”
Choose Your Own Adventure!
I wonder, is it possible to not care about likes and followers? Or to not seek validation from others? If there is, I have yet to figure it out. Speaking of, I told a woman she was an idiot today. Twice. And then I followed it with a thumbs up, er, I mean my middleContinue reading “Choose Your Own Adventure!”
A Special Lady
“The Teachings of Buddha” is read aloud on the bed next to me. By Evelyn, the two-and-a-half-year-old (don’t tell her I told you this) that can’t read. She’s dog-tired; from being snapped in and snapped out of the car seat, from tromping through slushy snow (she didn’t mind), and standing in frigid, send-you-hurriedly-back-to-the-car winds. HerContinue reading “A Special Lady”
Going On 40 