Welcome to Becca Wilhite's Author Site
Enjoy Sweet Romantic Comedy

Category: Authors

I am Writer, Hear Me Tap-tap-tap

So, so many times I’ve had this discussion: What makes you a writer? Well, I write. Okay, but when did you first start calling yourself a writer? Oh. That. When I was published. See? I’m an oxymoron. Oxy- part optional. But what I mean is that to be a writer, you write. That word, WRITER,
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What is this feeling?

So there’s sadness. Grief. Sorrow. My sweet, wonderful, generous, laughing, picture-taking, movie-loving, wave-running, Beach Boys-listening, Elvis-adoring, milk-drinking, compliment-giving father-in-law passed away yesterday. As I held his hand in the ICU this week and listened to him breathe through the oxygen mask, I wanted that hope that his girls felt, that hope that he would pull
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Writing

Nope. Not that kind. In fact, I have nothing to report on the Creating Something front. No, I’m talking about pencils. Do you love pencils? I do. Right here at my left hand is a jar (Mason. Pint. Narrow mouth.) full of pencils. Hang on, I’m gong to count them. Nineteen. Plus two Sharpies (one
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Look!

Yesterday it was a thin layer of icy snow. Today? Slickshiny mud, with a small fat red tulip-tip peeking out. And another. And another. It may be just one corner, but it is happening. It is coming. It is. Now please excuse me while I lie on the driveway with my nose pressed to the
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Half

Does it feel like Thursday was a long time ago to anyone else? Yikes. And I’ve been Momming and Playing so much that I haven’t written a thing. Not a blog post, barely an email. Certainly no revisions. So all my big plans of submitting? They’ve gone the way of the… well, whatever. Gone, anyway.
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Sugar, Baby

It’s been a week. A week with no sugar.* I’m feeling really awesome. Mostly psychologically awesome, since I have come so far on my goal. But also physically awesome, because I love how my self feels without sugar. And did you know that homemade hummus (with pita chips, with pretzels, with any kind of crunchy
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Wording

There are times (okay, all the time) when I just make up a word to fit a situation. But in general, I never, ever want to hear that word used again, because under the kind of stress that causes me to invent words, I am rarely clever. But this week, I came up with one
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Which is Better?

Sometimes people ask impossible questions. Such as, if you could only be one kind, which kind of writer would you be: the kind who writes really “great” (I think that means Literary), critically acclaimed books, or the kind that makes grundles of money? Are we just maybe asking the wrong question? Because who would be
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