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So you wrote a book…
You did it! You did the hardest thing in the entire world! Just kidding, but yeah, writing a book is HARD WORK. I just finished writing my seventh novel (not to be confused with all of the half-baked and 10-30K word documents in my “writing” folder on my laptop), and that is pretty bonkers to me. Maybe to some people, that’s not that many, but there are a multitude of reasons I can’t churn them out. For example, my first couple of ideas, frankly, weren’t that great! And I didn’t know very much about craft or about life, so they took eons to complete. And they’re not very good at…
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Last Train to Nowhere
She didn’t know how she got to the train station. There was a vague memory of walking in the foggy morning, between the dirt road and the train tracks, ticket in her hands. A train pulled in as the sun rose, but it wasn’t the right one. Not that she had any reason in thinking so, it just didn’t feel right to rush on it along with the men in suits holding briefcases. They weren’t going to wherever she needed to go. Another train came and went, more people getting on, some stepping off. Couples, more men in suits, families, solo travelers. Nobody noticed her standing on the platform in…
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The Summer Slump
Every year, I give myself a healthy, attainable reading goal. Some years it’s easier than others, but I typically can get through fifty to sixty books in a year, so I always hit it. And every year, like clockwork, I hit a Summer Slump. Like, I can barely get through one or two books a month kind of slump. And not even good ones! We’re nearing the end of August now, and I’m shifting into soup mode, and I am ready, ready, ready to get OUT of this meh reading period! I’m BARELY keeping up with my reading goal. I’m usually a few books ahead by this time, and Storygraph…
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Twenty-NOINE: Reflections on my aging.
I always loved the summer. Free from school, could finally read whatever I wanted (when I should’ve been cracking down on my summer reading list), sleeping in, staying up late. It was all so wonderful! Summer was my season until 2016, but you know all about that (if you’ve been around, I mean). Alas, I still manage to love summer for a few reasons, none of them being climate change and the number one of them being my birthday. For quite some time, I had a love-hate relationship with my birthday. It was once a countdown to the end, I thought so many times I’d just had my last one.…
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august
Sometimes I forget the air at the beach stays salty even when the sun goes down. Even in the dark, I feel like getting sand stuck between my toes. It’s pitch black crossing the highway. No headlights or passing cars. No one felt like driving up the coast tonight, I guess. I can hear the crash of the waves from here, calling my name. They’ve missed me after a long time away, after jumping city lines for years trying to run far enough away from the memory of this place. The lights at the club blaze in the distance, but I can’t go there yet. I kick my shoes off…
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Waiting for big theatre romances is like waiting for rain in this drought: useless and disappointing–UNLESS??
Hi all, Writing this to you like it’s a fancy little email like I’m at my fancy little job at the email factory because that is my entire life right now. I’m unable to turn it off, so this is the kind of thing you’re getting. I’d like to touch base with you about the beloved yet incredibly undervalued and overlooked genre of romance and the rom-com, especially as it relates to movie theatre releases. Per my discussion on a very serious finance call with a very short agenda, the want and need of more romance and rom-coms in film was brought to my attention, and really, I couldn’t agree…
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outdoor pool
She’d never been high before, but she was sure this is what it felt like. The street lights glittered brighter, the air was cool and sharp on her skin, and her skin buzzed with the promise of his touch. And, of course, from the cheap beer racing through her bloodstream for the first time. Anything was possible tonight. “Do you want to go swimming?” he asked. “Yes.” Anything with you. She hoped she didn’t sound as breathless as she felt. She knew he had a pool at home, he was one of those people with a backyard oasis designed for a hundred pool parties. Not that she ever made it…
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That’s that me, Depresso – Semi-Serious Reflections on the State of my Mental Health
I could say a lot about my history with depression and anxiety. I HAVE said a lot about my history with depression and anxiety–they are inexplicably a part of me, after all. I used to analyze it all in depth, chronicling the recovery highs and lows, wondering if I was getting better at all. There was a time when I thought I was better, and I was so sure. I considered depression something I had, past-tense, and that, at that point in my life, I was just occasionally experiencing depressive episodes. Of course, I was naive (and a measly twenty-one), and I didn’t know all the tumultuous emotions I would…
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A Really Sappy and Slightly Obsessive Book Review – Project Hail Mary by Andy Weir
I don’t want to jump the gun by saying this in April, but I may have already read my favorite book of the year. Funny Story by Emily Henry isn’t out yet (and I didn’t snag an ARC), so this verdict could change in a few weeks when I bask in the goodness of an inevitably gushy and devastatingly gorgeous romance, but there is already a very strong, very different contender for Favorite Read of 2024. My Storygraph review of Project Hail Mary by Andy Weir is “BRB FORCING THIS BOOK DOWN THE THROATS OF EVERYONE I’VE EVER KNOWN,” and since I finished the book on January 12th, I’ve mostly…
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Amsterdam Part Two
My heart is bigger and brighter in walkable cities. Ones with cobblestone streets and gray skies and brick buildings. Even in the cold and wind and mist, it’s full of life. Or maybe that’s just the espresso talking. I’ve loved this city since I was twenty-one. I’ve dreamed of her when I’ve felt lost, and I’ve missed her sparkle when I’m missing the friends I knew there. She is always in my back pocket when I need her. I am so lucky to have been able to meet her again, to reintroduce her to the woman I’ve become since we last saw each other. Somehow I am exactly the same…