It’s a very big birthday for me today and a very strange one at that. In the past, for every decade that rolled by, I would promise myself I was going to make it a big celebration. These promises never reached fruition for one reason or another, usually because I didn’t have the money for
Rarely do I have an opportunity for purposeless activity. If I’m running, I’m training. If I’m driving, I’m going to work, grocery shopping, or to some sort of appointment. If I’m reading, I’m studying. If I’m at the computer, I’m working or writing. Even my free time is filled with purpose. Our lives have become
Over the years, I’ve made friends with many writers through social media. I wouldn’t recognize more than a handful of them if I passed them on the street, yet I feel that over time, I’ve come to know them personally through recurring themes evident in their books, social media, and blog posts. These identifiers are
I was fortunate . . . for a while, but now, I guess you could say I’m of an age where I’ve begun to go to more funerals. Beyond losing one much-loved cousin—barely out of her twenties—to breast cancer, I hadn’t really lost anyone close to me. But soon, death, a snowball, became an avalanche.
Much has happened since last we met, oh say, almost two years ago! I’ll blame a larger percentage of my blogging derailment on a career change. I was finally, after years of applying, give an opportunity to teach college English which turned out to be all-consuming. As of January 1st, however, I was offered a
One of my first assignments this term for my MFA lyric essay class is to keep a weekly journal. Despite my love of writing and despite the purchase of all the cute journaling accoutrements—colored pens, journal with writerly mantra on the cover, and irresistible Etsy stickers—I have not, as yet, been able to discipline myself
All writers have experienced waking in the middle of the night with some of our best ideas. When that happens, we feel compelled to capture that inspiration before it floats away on a dream which is why many of us get so little sleep. It’s also why we keep small notebooks, cell phones, or even
Steve is all I remember of his name although I doubt we were permitted to refer to him in such an informal manner. He was slim, wore heavy, horn-rimmed glasses, and had funny, fuzzy hair of which, no one ever considered making fun of. He was a powerhouse of knowledge and energy, and the entire