nice time to be a writer

How did people ever manage to write novels before Google or the Wikipedia? Anything you want to know, whenever you want to know it, right there at your fingertips. Or before laptops equipped with iTunes? Any mood you want to be in, done! Flickr gives 

@%*damn f*^king telemarketers!

Not a writer: Not a good week. There was a combination of brain-deadness, bad nap consistency, who knows. That only puts me about 2600 words ahead of where I was two weeks ago, since I skipped fessing up last Friday. Word count: 25660 Page count: 

domesticated, or something like it

Buy a pair of Target shoes because they’re cute and you can afford them. And a new bag while you’re there. Buy a bottle of Diet Sunkist, just this once, even if you are well aware that the combination of sodium benzoate and ascorbic acid 

ah, communication!

More, more, bresh-shish = breakfast. He always says he wants more of something when he wants something, whether he’s had some already or not. And always more, more twice. But the cutest is when it’s almost time for his daddy to come home and he 

the car boycott that will never be

Some kind of ‘fess up Friday not a writer: – I got out of bed in the middle of the night this week and wrote a little flash-fiction story. That was very surprising. One minute I’m trying to sleep, the next I’m downstairs on my 

date night

Sometimes you just want to wear a pretty dress, even if you are going to the kind of club where people don’t wear dresses. You in a dress, among all the jeans and t-shirts, and one goth-girl with Wolverine claws (yes, really!), and you don’t 

like, genius smart

This is the part where I avoid writing a chapter because a character is too much unlike myself that it become something like work. The biggest problem is that this guy is supposed to be really, really smart. Much smarter than I am. I have 

a train, and belated Fess up Friday

Meet Dylan’s train. He is in love with this wooden Melissa and Doug stacking train. We have to bring it up and down the stairs, along with all of its pieces, anywhere he goes. He sleeps with it every night, lol. I’m totally serious. He 

an interesting discovery

Are you a boy? I ask. He shakes his head no. Are you a girl? I ask. He shakes his head no. Are you an alien? I ask. He nods enthusiastically. He is a genderless alien then 🙂 And in other news, we bought him 

i am a writer, i am, i am!

I just went into the basement to start a load of laundry, and walked straight through a spider web. Ick! I feel all creepy-crawly now! The novel continues to be written! My first completed draft of the second chapter (I ended up writing the second