When I do a reading or other author-y event, I tend to hear the same questions: “Where do you get your inspiration?” “Is Maggie based on a real person?” “Where’s the bathroom?” I think my favorite is, “With work, author duties, and a family, how do you not go crazy?” I laugh maniacally at that … Continue reading
I tend to avoid personal growth like the plague. Or pleated pants. If something’s going to inspire soul-searching, introspection or the pain of change, I’m out. But Vickie’s great post about Twitter got me thinking, which led to that dreaded introspection—and a discovery. I’m afraid of social media. I’m terrified of Twitter, petrified of Pinterest, … Continue reading
O Typo, I know ye well. You are a constant companion. A feared adversary. The source of “send now” trepidation. The raison d’etre of my delete key. The typo and I go way back, all the way to tenth grade, the year my father insisted I learned to type. My father is A Man of … Continue reading
Confession: I’m a terrible cook. Actually, that’s an understatement. I’m abysmally awful at cooking. I have seven dinners that I can make with consistent success that don’t involve help from this little guy: But that doesn’t stop me from poring over #foodstagram posts or oohing and ahhing over master chef creations. I also love to … Continue reading
There seems to be cosmic power in the number three. Triple crown. Triumvirate. The three Rs. And let’s not forget the three pigs, the Three Musketeers (the men AND the candy,) and those bastions of slapstick, the Three Stooges. However, the triple-powered axiom that’s been on my mind the most is “third time’s the charm.” … Continue reading
The last time I blogged, I talked about the cost of my failure to listen to my internal voice. The post got me thinking: Am I that weak-willed? Am I so easily swayed? Well, yes. And no. This exercise in self-examination inspired me to reflect on my life and actions as a whole. The verdict: … Continue reading
I used to hate my guts. Not literally, of course, and not metaphorically in the door-slamming, I’m-never-speaking-to-you-again way of teenagers. I’m talking about my refusal to listen to my gut, to heed my instincts, to trust my intuition or the possibility that I know myself best. Case in point: a recent health event. About a … Continue reading
