Kill Your Illogical Darlings

Whenever you feel an impulse to perpetrate a piece of exceptionally fine writing, obey it—whole-heartedly—and delete it before sending your manuscript to press. Murder your darlings. – Arthur Quiller-Couch

If you’ve taken a few writing classes, you’ve undoubtedly heard this piece of advice. I heard it many, many times, but didn’t really grasp its application until I started seriously working on novels and short stories a few years ago. I have since learned it well and have files and files of bits of writing that I am super proud of, and yet, for one reason or another, are fatally flawed and won’t ever make it into a finished piece.  Continue reading →

Struggles of the Wannabe Grammar Police

On my neighborhood Nextdoor site, I recently saw a post about a lost dog that was found. In response, one person wrote, “Glad this tale/tail has a happy ending.” I started to roll my eyes at her seemingly unnecessary decision to clarify that she was making a pun, but then I stopped. The truth is, I can easily put myself inside her mind. I’m constantly making calculations in my head about whether I should speak “correctly” or speak like most people around me do.  Continue reading →

The Novel: DOA at DIA

The novel is no more. If the possible reason that first comes to your mind is that my co-author is no more either, you are correct. I ended my relationship with Ironman a little while back and with it, the collaboration on our novel. When we first starting seeing each other casually last May, I thought we would always be friends and able to collaborate on projects even if we ended our romance. But the bizarre way he admittedly led me on for months, knowing that he no longer felt the way I felt about him, and then the way he instantaneously turned into a callous and cruel person without a single indication that anything was wrong even as we were making future plans together that very morning, now makes that impossible. Continue reading →

The Perfect Bitch

I’m not a fan of frenemies, cattiness, or plain out women hating other women. I wouldn’t enjoy living that way and I don’t even enjoy books or movies that portray women that way. I’m a woman of the variety who compliments random women on their outfit or hair, who tries to comfort the girl crying in the bathroom at the bar, who genuinely appreciates the talent others have. There’s nothing to be gained from being shitty to someone else, but brightening someone’s day always makes you, and them, feel good.

However…every once in a while someone comes along that, for the sake of your own lady tribe, you have to band together against, even if she has done nothing but exist. This person is most often a perfect bitch. She has expertly applied makeup, gorgeous hair, an incredible body, enviable athleticism, fashionable clothes that sit on her exactly right, a successful and exciting career, the perfect husband, and nothing ever goes wrong for her. Or so we imagine. Most of this narrative is made up in our own heads because that’s the level of confidence and self-love she exudes. Nevertheless, we dislike her. We dislike her because we want to be her. Her mere existence makes the most competent, beautiful, and successful of us feel bumbling, dowdy and a total failure. Continue reading →

13.11 on a Mesa in Southern Utah

Mile 1: It’s 6:59 AM. I just peed 10 minutes ago and I really have to go again because despite the cold, I’m only wearing a tank top and capri yoga pants, and I’ve just chugged a cup of coffee to warm up and a bottle of water to combat the dehydrating effect of the coffee, as well as the desiccating salt of the bacon I ate in the rental car on the several thousand foot ascent up the mesa in the pre-sunrise hours of the day. The train of cars kicked up so much dust that my companions wondered if we were in intense fog, even though there is a total lack of humidity in south-western Utah. We all wondered how far we’d roll if our intrepid driver, who, like all of us, got only four hours of restless sleep, messed up and went off the edge. But there’s no time to pee; the judge fired the gun and we’re off.

31416843_10103394996117592_3836212811092983808_n Continue reading →

Blogging from A to Z: 2018 Recap

The 2018 A to Z Challenge is over and I hope you had as much fun reading my posts as I did writing them. Thanks to all who checked out my blog and especially all those who took the time to comment. I wrote all my posts in advance so I’d have time to check out other blogs during the month, and I was able to visit almost all of them. So for my wrap up post, I’m linking to the most enjoyable post I found each day.

A to Z

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Z – SneeZing

If you sneeze on Monday, you sneeze for danger;
Sneeze on a Tuesday, kiss a stranger;
Sneeze on a Wednesday, sneeze for a letter;
Sneeze on a Thursday, something better.
Sneeze on a Friday, sneeze for sorrow;
Sneeze on a Saturday, joy to-morrow.

I’ve got nothing for Z. No lesson, no criticism, no praise, no disgust, no smirk. This is the only Mother Goose rhyme I could find with some Zs in it and it’s just nonsense. As I think all the best Mother Goose rhymes should be.

Verdict: Have fun with it! Continue reading →

Young Roger and Dolly

Young Roger came tapping at Dolly’s window,
Thumpaty, thumpaty, thump!
He asked for admittance; she answered him “No!”
Frumpaty, frumpaty, frump!
“No, no, Roger, no! as you came you may go!”
Stumpaty, stumpaty, stump!

Now this is more like it. I don’t know what the relationship between Roger and Dolly is or was, but you can bet she won’t be letting him take her anywhere in a wheelbarrow or plastering his head with brown paper and then getting in trouble for it. You go, Dolly! Continue reading →

X – The Woman of EXeter

There dwelt an old woman at Exeter;
When visitors came it sore vexed her,
So for fear they should eat,
She locked up all her meat,
This stingy old woman of Exeter.

Some days, I can relate to this lady and just want to be left alone. Now, when I invite visitors that’s a different story. And I can’t relate to the whole stingy aspect of this rhyme. If she was such a stingy crank, who was going to visit her anyway? The rhyme makes the visitors sound like an ongoing problem, but I imagine after the poor treatment her visitors received once, they wouldn’t exactly be clamoring to go back. Welp, good luck lady. Sounds like you are going to die alone and miserable. Continue reading →