Category: Authors

Remember how I was going to get all that good stuff done? Um. Instead I found this, where the hilarious Maureen Johnson has pledged to blog every day in April. I have just spent a very funny forty minutes reading her first week’s entries. And watching the opening credits of “Fame” and maybe a little

I woke up to more snow this morning. I wonder if the fact that I neither cursed nor went back to bed means that I’m finally accepting the reality of living here in the mountains. It’s only been seven and a half years. But come on, people. It’s the middle of April! The kids slept

If I make a comment on a blog, and am required to verify, I am taken by surprise when I realize that my verification is really an actual word. Which causes me to wonder… Are all the verifications real words? Are there that many words that I have never seen, let alone understood or used?

I love the beginning stage of a first draft. A thousand words at a time, just chucked out there. There’s a little thought to pacing, and what to write and what to withhold, but mainly it is fun to just get it down. Knowing that the majority of this particular draft will probably be cut,

We’re going to the zoo today. It feels like spring, and it’s spring break, and we’re going to spend the day outside. So there. Except I don’t actually love the zoo. I have guilt about it, in fact. I love to watch the animals (from far away) but I hate the idea of the cramped

So maybe it’s true that I have a hard time finishing things I start. But today I had a great writing morning, just playing with something new. Maybe I should be plugging along with a story I’ve outlined, but I’m just not feeling it. So I sat down and pounded out a thousand words, and

Does anyone else think Robert Hales is a genius? Tell it like it is, brother.

My friend Mary keeps chickens. I want to keep chickens, but it’s against the rules where my house is. Mary just called to say that she’s bringing by some things, including eggs. Here’s the thing about Mary’s eggs (or technically, Mary’s chickens’ eggs). They are almost too pretty to eat. There are brown ones, and