NaNoWriMo began at a snail’s pace for me, and I’m already a slow AF writer. I swear, November is the worst month for me to have this challenge—it’s short, there’s Thanksgiving to prepare for, and I have to create the picture calendar for the next year (in order for it to arrive in time for Christmas). And this year is even more congested than normal.Continue reading
Megan, my protagonist in my manuscript, has this mantra: Hope always ends in disappointment. Her allies try to chip away at this false narrative, but every time they make headway, something happens to derail their progress, and Megan’s distorted belief strengthens. Real life feels like that sometimes, doesn’t it?
The Texas freeze was two and a half months ago. It seems like a lifetime ago that we went twenty-three days without running water. Shortly after we got everything working again, we slowly eased back into pandemic normalcy (if that exists). My nine-year-old had fun cutting up a dead purple sage bush, and guess what he found on the branch…a chrysalis shell.
I’m a perfectionist, which can be both a blessing and a curse. It’s a blessing because I want to get things right and will work at it until I do. It’s a curse because, well, if I don’t “get” it just right, it can be a never-ending source of frustration. Something that’s even more challenging than managing my perfectionism is my ability to be realistic.
It’s no secret that I’m a huge Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland fan, and one of the things Thomas gave me for my last birthday was a “Drink Me” necklace with some little, white crystals in the bottle—hey, check out the pic…there it is! It quickly became a fun staple to my wardrobe, but unbeknownst me, there was a magical discovery waiting to be made.
I’m a graduate from The University of Texas at Austin, but I didn’t major in either English or Creative Writing. In fact, I wasn’t even in the School of Liberal Arts (“school” is how the university subdivides their specialties). Believe it or not, I was part of the Business School.
This is my bathtub, and no, those aren’t bubbles. That’s a heaping pile of snow…
Last month, I told you how we beat the odds and had this amazing day of snow; remember, I live in central Texas—a dusting every few years is a big deal to us. Two days ago, we had a snowstorm that blew the one last month out of the park. And with it came some unexpected challenges.
This last weekend, my nine-year-old decided he wanted pizza for lunch, so he toasted some bread, got out some cheese, and grabbed the ketchup bottle. *GASP!!!*
The Unicorn is a relatively minor character in Lewis Carroll’s Through the Looking Glass. He’s only in one scene that’s no more than a few pages long. But he says something quite remarkable to Alice: “If you believe in me, I’ll believe in you. Is that a bargain?”
Do you ever get the feeling that you’ve missed something? That it’s slipping through the cracks to the realm of the forgotten? The abyss of nothingness? And the worst part: you can’t even pinpoint what it is—a Remembrall won’t help here. That feeling is frustrating to no end and sends my anxiety into hyperdrive.