So, I pick up this tiny flier down at IF+D. More of these fliers were on the counter at the coffee shop around the corner. And I realize that this Books & Beer event is a night that my husband and I will be kiddo-free. Books and beer! What is it exactly? I'm not sure. …

Continue reading Aren’t I too old to crash a party?

Getting my Master's Degree took longer than it should have, but in spite of taking two years off to join the Peace Corps, getting married, and working full-time, I finished my thesis, passed the language exam, and got my degree. My thesis advisor and I still exchange Christmas cards. How have I put this degree …

Continue reading My Magical Thinking

In 11th grade my chemistry teacher let me come to school on teacher work days to take the tests. That's the kind of help I needed to make sense of anything. Mr. H didn't talk to me as if he thought I was dumb. One day he gave me bracelet that had been sitting in …

Continue reading Finding Chemistry

I've cooked up a bunch of stories and now I'm inviting my friends and strangers to share them. If you go to The Labyrinth Asylum, you'll find 31 stories written over 31 days. They're filled typos and the awkward sentences that happen when thrown together in one day. Now I'm not sure what happens next. …

Continue reading You’re Invited to Join Us

"You're a good writer, Mom," my 7-year-old son said from the backseat. He has, of course, never read anything written (other than a greeting card or note to the teacher). "Really?" I asked. "How do you know that?" "Because of all those novels," he said. Oh those.

Good writing. Who knows the magic to that? But this I know. You can't get published keeping your writing at home. An agent isn't going to shoot out of the sky and land burning bright with enthusiasm for all things me. Submissions must be sent out. And sent out again. And again. Query letters must …

Continue reading How many angels can dance on the edge of a query letter?

One day, we ran out of the coffee pods for our coffee maker. We had our French press, but the coffee grinder broke too. I heard clattering in the kitchen. Looking in, I saw my son, six-years-old, standing on a wine box, a mortar and pestle in his hands, grinding the coffee beans himself. "I'm …

Continue reading Can’t Write on Empty

My mother often said I had a hard time seeing the world the way it was instead of the way I wanted it to be. But I might not be a writer if I didn't. So, I've been writing a story a day for the month of May. This exercise isn't going to get me …

Continue reading Practice makes perfect except when it doesn’t.