So here we are, sitting on the cusp of 2020. Or, should I say, here I sit, drinking coffee, trying to wrap my head around the last year, let alone the last decade.
So many things going on lately – I just realized that I hadn’t posted any updates for #write365. I’ve been going back through and revising piecemeal on the Romantic Suspense, but it’s been quite minimal. Still better than the alternative, right? Work has been… well, work. I did start a Google Drive to throw the random prompts that I come across into… while I’ve got my long-form Nanowrimo idea doc already, most of those aren’t
I lost a friend today. CindieLee Hendon, who saw me through some of my extreme lows and highs as I left teen years and headed into adulthood, died today. I’m still trying to wrap my head around that. So close to the first anniversary of my mother’s death, I just don’t think a part of me will allow for me to start processing this just yet. Instead, it swirls memories of watching her son Morgan
I may not always remember all of the details of today. Most days, I hope that I don’t. At 2:14pm ET on February 6, 2013, my mother died. I’ve been sitting, staring at that last sentence for over an hour. What else is there to say? A year ago my mother died. The rational part of my brain knows that this is just part of the cycle, but that doesn’t make anything better. We were
When the new year came around, I was trying to figure out what I wanted to be when I grew up and promising to write here every week this year. Then I lost my job. Then I lost my mother. It’s been three months today since myself, my stepfather, my grandmother and all of her siblings gathered around her hospital bed as she breathed her last. Three months since I really, honestly could say that
While some might think it’s a little weird to get a hotel room for a local con, I’ve found that it’s a necessity, especially when it’s a con for something like filk. Which is why you’ll find me near the airport this weekend for GAFilk, singing and hanging out on the smoking patio.
I’ve said this before, and I’ll probably say it again, but sometimes it comes down to starting back up something once forgotten. Like this blog. I have been occasionally posting flash fictions here, in hopes that by posting them I’d actually start using this blog again. So far, not really. But as I was working on a quick print advertisement for the Filk Track (where I’m not only the resident webby, but also the Assistant
The stars have aligned badly lately, with moving hosts, corrupted database backups, and just general malaise stopping me from writing… so consider this as the slate wiped clean… I’m starting over.
Bob Asprin, originally uploaded by dene foye. While aged, this is a perfect representation of how I remember Bob Asprin from when I was a child. Sitting around, guitar in hand, though the Irish Whiskey isn’t in the shot, from my memories, it was close at hand. As I got older, and as we moved around, I found his books, and could finally put an amazing story to the songs I grew up with. The
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