Tag Archives: fiction writing

Write it Down, Sherlock

As I scrub whatevers at the kitchen sink, thinking about Hadley Richardson because I’m reading The Paris Wife, mostly thinking how wrong the book’s cover is considering its subject, I’m wondering  if I’ll ever have a book cover of my own to … Continue reading

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Luke Put Up Your Visor

Look up. I was looking at Leroy, watching him think about calling everything off–his ears twitched and he swung his head weirdly to the right, because of me—and my Type A procrastination. Look up. I looked up—trees, that house perched precariously … Continue reading

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Ding Dong

If each of us would only sweep our own doorstep, the whole world would be clean.   —Mother Teresa A quote I’ve posted ad nauseam. It’s not easy, focused sweeping. Constant practice is necessary (for me). There is no one I can hire … Continue reading

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May Tonic (Cursing-in-Private Edition)

Trying to use a voucher for 3 free rides to Catalina Island and being told there’s no room on the boat by a severely rude someone you find it extremely difficult to dredge any compassion for simply because of their tone—noticing the pink … Continue reading

Posted in Adult writing, books, Fiction, Me and Us, ocean related, Poetry, To Explain, Writer's Angst, Writing | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 4 Comments

April Lines

What a gift-packed month. Poetry has crammed my inbox daily. I went to a Rhapsodomancy reading at the Good Luck bar and listened to knock-you-off-your-feet lines from poets with poetry-spewing-volcanos where scalps should be. 1 day of NaPoWriMo left. So go on. Go write. You know you … Continue reading

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Voices

I stopped typing and froze in the bed office. A voice was in my house. Deep. Half whisper-in-a-frightening-tomb, half ogre-stuck-in-a-well. I set aside the laptop, rose from the bed office chair and peeked into the hall. No one. Except the … Continue reading

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Na? No. Hope? Yes.

Amidst the latest horrifying US events, poetry—much of it fresh off the brain—whirls tirelessly through every non-existent corner of the internet.  Look: In dark times, people go looking for poetry and I’m glad there is plenty to assuage, aid, comfort and … Continue reading

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NaNaNana Hey Hey Hey NaNa

Written next to the flower (see previous post): Tipping between lost and grateful; never traveling with grace or without sound doubt; raking up luck-bits when the world sleeps in its stifling old box; kissing the future into strum; hunkering down, … Continue reading

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Update 2: NaMeSitDif (etc.) Projekt

Since I forgot to Na on Monday, as I promised myself, and since I didn’t Na on Tuesday due to pressing engagements (Target, the teeth people), upon leaving the stables today I stopped at a No’ridge Starbucks on my way home, hobbling delicately inside, … Continue reading

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Update: NaMeSiDifStaDaiWri(expletive)Po

I forgot to go on Monday. Ummm…And here is a cat.

Posted in Avoiding My Writing, Children's Books, Fiction, middle grade, Poetry, Writer's Angst, Writing | Tagged , , , , , , | 3 Comments

NaMeSiDifStarDaiWri%#*Po Week (Partial Week Edition)

Next week (because my son resumes PreK after a 2 week spring break) is National PB Sit in a Different Starbucks Daily and Write a (insert expletive) Poem Week. Well, at least monday through thursday. Actually not tuesday because that’s when I … Continue reading

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Quote For The Weekend (Unchaste Edition)

True poets should be chaste, I know, but wherefore should their lines be so? —Catullus (Gaius Valerius, of course…) Of course he loved Lesbia! Sheesh. Get over it. Hopefully he ultimately got over it, IF he wasn’t 30 when he … Continue reading

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Courage! (Neigh Edition)

I was late to retrieve the boy from school because I Face Sucked like a fiend AND watched the latest episode of “Once” on hulu AND in another open hulu tab caught up on the latest episode of “Revenge” WHILE checking … Continue reading

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To All Rejections

To all rejections: I am building a cathedral. I am building a cathedral. I am building a cathedral. I am building a cathedral. I am building a cathedral. I am building a cathedral. I am building a cathedral. I am … Continue reading

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Old Town Poetry

I invited a friend to a poetry reading. 6 years ago this would have been a normal request of any of my friends. But now I’m a mom. Now most of my friends are mothers and working mothers and mothers with working-OT-husbands–thus … Continue reading

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Clues

So it’s time to leave the Little House and tear him away from several days of precious Pottery Barn living and Angry Birds on the Kindle at odd hours and foods we don’t normally eat at home, like grated-cheese-and-nitrate-free-bacon-quesadillas-for-breakfast-with-1-maraschino-cherry-on-top, and … Continue reading

Posted in Children's Books, dog, Fiction, Me and Us, ocean related, Poetry, Santa Barbara, Writer's Angst, Writing | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 4 Comments

Flu 2

When I’m sick like this (somewhere near the darker side of the middle line between healthy and barely-not-dead), my limbs melted into the mattress, not asleep, though not alert, vaguely hearing my son and husband pretend-Kung-Fu in the living room, my brain distresses … Continue reading

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Birthday Edition

On the eve of my hubbadobubbaboblah birthday: tucked my son into Pre-K, FB’d (i.e. avoided yoga), did yoga, even Superman, even V-ups, edited poems, sighed at the unicycle, edited poems, zoomed the boy to karate testing for his green stripe … Continue reading

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February Mini-Break

This visit, Dana Point-by-the-tru-la-la-ocean was hotter than Reseda by 1, February-heatwaving degree. 79 vs. 78. So of course we escorted my father into the minivan and drove to The Pilgrim and admired its masts and restoration for the gazzilionth time … Continue reading

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And The Seat Moved

My sliced finger salved and bandaged, wiping cat gak off my bare foot, it was about then I remembered my promise to learn to ride the unicycle before my next birthday, so I went outside, snatched up my son’s helmet … Continue reading

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Quote For The Weekend

In order to write the book you want to write, in the end you have to become the person you need to become to write that book. ― Junot Díaz Today I am a 56 year old academic who wrote only … Continue reading

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Beach Break

This was last weekend, all Winter beachness, crisp, clear light, air cold enough for us to wear sweaters we haven’t seen in over a year, sweaters with jeans and sweats and bare feet as we ran on glassy beach, Anacapa, … Continue reading

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Reading List 2013 (So Far)

This morning my husband burst through the front door, yanked the tiny earphones out of his ears and, flushed from his post-run endorphin rush, declared: The Death Of Bees, we must own it! The Death Of Bees, by Lisa O’Donnell (check out … Continue reading

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2013: Resolute

1. Stand taller. 2. Be wiser. 3. Mother better. 4. Honor date nights. 4a. find a babysitter after 5 years of not        4b. either more or less caffeine @8pm any Friday night—search for successful eye-propping balance! Ha ha! Fun! 5. … Continue reading

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Quote For The Weekend: Christmas Poem Edition

Full Howling Moon Southern California’s brittle December 24th: swells, surfboards, fire-skin, a holiday bbq by a slide-dunked swimming pool blooming algae, all palms standing by–city logo, city tattoos. The Hollywood Hills Gelson’s Market evacuates delicacies when a parking lot palm … Continue reading

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