Do you ever have those moments where you just want to smack your hand through your forehead so hard it comes out the other side?
Another maze for you to try. This time the theme is “Chutes and Ladders”–give it a try!
When I get bored, I tend to get creative. And for me, creative means, well. In this case, it meant drawing a maze. If you follow my author page on Facebook you’ll already have seen this, but I think it’s worth posting here as well. Four years ago, nearly exactly, I drew this maze. A couple… Continue reading It’s a Maze, This Post, It’s a Maze of… Paper?
It’s Thanksgiving Day, when someone says: “Before we eat, let’s take a moment to go around the table and say what we’re thankful for,” why is it never acceptable to reply, “Can we just mumble stuff with our mouths full of mashed potatoes instead?”
One More Time If you were able to relive one day from the last 12 months, which day would it be — and why? The last twelve months have been pretty quiet for me. The LLC I’m part of sold the house we’d remodeled; I directed The Secret Garden: The Musical with my mother; my husband… Continue reading One More Time: The Days That Fade At the Edges
The Halloween I was in sixth grade, we had to defend our pumpkins. That was the year my family hosted an exchange student from France. He was, well. He was the kid who wore a Kamikaze headband to school September 12th, 2001, let’s put it that way. Not exactly the kind who stops fights, or keeps… Continue reading Smashing Pumpkins For the Glory of Halloween
I would like, first and foremost, to say this is all @LMBryski’s fault. She is the one who tagged me in the game. What game? The game where there is a big list of questions and we answer them on our blogs! Okay, it’s sort of a lame-sounding game, but we’re writers and writing the… Continue reading A Great Big Fat Overview of What I Write and Why
Every once in a while, my morbid sense of humor bites me in the bum. Despite the goat blood jokes, the references to those drugs that turn up every once in a while in real life to turn people in zombies who eat people’s faces, the presence in my manuscript of some seriously nasty stab wounds,… Continue reading Morbid Humor and the Sensitive Soul
I am not very good at giving gifts. See, I am one of those people who believes in practical things, high-quality things. If you say you hate the cold, I want to buy you beautiful mittens for your birthday, or if I notice you always complain that your cutting board is crap, you will shortly… Continue reading Scottish Gaelic Will Be the Death of Me
In honor of the birthday of Cathleen Townsend, writing buddy, I shall now post a poem that I did not write. My sister wrote it many years ago. Many, many years ago. In Sunday school. When she was twelve, and therefore old enough to know better. *Ahem* Hark, the Ark, The dog goes bark. Thank… Continue reading Happy Happy Birthday To Not Me.