Tag Archives: 2019
STARTING NOW
I mean, why wait? W.R.I.T.I.N.G.
Happy Rainsgiving
‘Tis the season to remember how to get cozy and not because the A/C is running. At least–I hope ’tis… Happy Thanksgiving Holiday
Poem
Flawbag There is the girl, woman this 3:02p.m., midway on twinkling crosswalk. Her voice thumps her hip, tucked in a dropped- bottom bag working on its 5th shoulder strap. Walk-lope: she doesn’t like you, though it is doubtful she could … Continue reading
O First Pages (Retreat Edition)
The last event of the SCBWI Working Writer’s retreat consisted of 3 minutes allotted to each attendee to read aloud their first page of a manuscript. Professional critique was squeezed into that 3 minutes from a panel comprised of 4 … Continue reading
O JOKE! (Popsicle Stick Edition)
And here is a popsicle stick I recently uncovered. In all my many now-I’m-older-than-absolutely-everyone-even-Paul-Rudd years, I had no idea such joke sticks existed. Very nice! As long as it’s just a joke and not a fortune. 🙂
Retreat!
Heading to the SCBWI Working Writers Retreat tomorrow. This will be my second time attending this annual event. The workshops are small and focused. I learn tons about my work (my middle grade novels) and it’s a joy to read … Continue reading
Now Reading
Her latest Gamache installment has come along at the perfect time. Because after a death in the family, what better reading than a crime thriller as I deal with a myriad of petty family crimes in the wake of tragedy? … Continue reading
Whoa, Bess!
I continue to navigate ‘ancient’ family history in the wake of my mother’s passing. And I look forward to sharing strictly family revelations over beachwalks. Because the beach fixes everything. Ha! That simple. For me. More often than not… Yours … Continue reading
Death Poem
Orphan We are the children. Cream to curse. In- structed: here ya go, go, here ya, here ya go, go, go fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck Did you say that? Well. I did. Finally: where were you … Continue reading
Washing My Inheritance
My then soon-to-be-husband stated (3rd date, my Echo Park, Los Angeles apartment with the spectacular view I couldn’t afford without working 2 jobs, the last apartment I ever lived in alone): You have a lot of rocks. My Echo Park … Continue reading
Death & Reckonings
I’m told change can’t arrive without grief. ‘Change’ was my middle name when I was a child. I begged for change. It fueled my drive for: self-preservation, better school grades, to hunt for goals my parents lectured me were good … Continue reading
Peace To You
When I was seven to ten years old, I begged her to let me stay home from school so I could hang out with her, picnic in the park behind our house (she made cheese and tomato sandwiches), just be … Continue reading
Festival Weekend (creativity-obsessed edition)
Saturday morning, my husband and my middle-grade son zoomed to the Los Angeles Convention Center for its uber-serving of Minefaire. Minecraft. All. Day. While up the street at USC I attended the Los Angeles Festival Of Books. Mostly I hung … Continue reading
Birthday Alarms
I was wide awake before Monday’s morning alarm chimed, plotting what errands I would accomplish, in what order– when my brain was hit with edits to my novel-in-progress. I threw back the covers and staggered for the dining room table, … Continue reading
Retreat!
Faced with views custom-made to inspire writers, I didn’t. Write. Or edit the 50 pages I’d brought with me. Instead, I continued reading Michelle Obama’s Becoming. Occasionally I glanced up from the book and gaped at the storm–then I’d consciously … Continue reading
Octopus Garden
Because of my love for the ocean and its creatures, I aspire to hosting this kind of ocean-themed party (thus avoiding my fear of scuba diving, while still having a great time, and without attracting great white sharks–no matter their … Continue reading
BACK TO SCHOOL
I sing-songed like Snow White as I whisked open his curtains. I raved about the smell of cinnamon pancakes filling the house as I jumped on his bed. I hit him with a pillow as I encouraged him to seize … Continue reading
Rain Or Shine: Strike On
A couple of weeks before the strike, I was John Snow: I knew nothing. There are always excuses I can credit a busy mother. But everyone is busy. I simply wish I had paid any attention to events leading up … Continue reading
~2019~
May the year be merry and bright and productive. And may I acquire a new laptop. And definitely completion of the current novel and definitely long before the end of this shiny new year. And may I continue to exercise … Continue reading
PB Rippey Writes 
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