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I really thought I was scraping bottom when I wrote a flash fiction piece while clamped onto my seat by my butt cheeks as my co-Ninja-assassin-driver swerved through dead-man curves at 60 miles per hour on our way to our … Continue reading
Not to perpetuate the romantic notion of writerly angst and the joy of squeezing blood from one’s forehead, but for this writer at least, there seems to be two types of stories: the ones that write themselves, raining down from … Continue reading
Okay, so there was really only one jazz club and one art show Saturday night, but who cares? It was the first time I’ve been out to an adult function past “night-night time” in two years without diapers in my … Continue reading
So Thursday was my first day back “on the job.” Naturally, I was up late the night before having a mild stress attack. After all, it had been over a year since I last reported a deposition proceedings, and now … Continue reading