Tag Archives: life

Rough Evening…

Posted on August 24, 2010 by PB Rippey

I’m supposed to be right there, working.

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Away Again

Posted on August 22, 2010 by PB Rippey

I returned from the Writer’s Retreat Intensive (see previous post) only to depart for another intensive involving many mothers away from their husbands and children for 2 days and 2 nights. During this intensive, I did not write. I did, however, … Continue reading →

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Writer’s Retreat Musings…

Posted on August 19, 2010 by PB Rippey

I. I reclined on a chaise longue on a Spanish-style patio (meaning wide, faux-adobe tile and iron and wood furniture), appreciating water chiming from the mouth of a stone lion—not a spooky, Lil’ Orphan Annie-eyed stone lion, but a handsome one—sun and … Continue reading →

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Retreat…

Posted on August 16, 2010 by PB Rippey

For the next few days I will be away on a writer’s retreat, an intensive, an all-writing-all-the-time sort of deal—but with my son and no husband, so what this really means is time alone with my Toshiba next to a … Continue reading →

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My Gift For Blab…

Posted on August 15, 2010 by PB Rippey

9:46 pm. I don’t have it! That gift of easy-going gab. And yet—when I read what I’ve written for Moth Radio’s handy recording-a-submission feature, I carry on for two days instead of the minute they require. Who am I?

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Not Writing, but…

Posted on August 13, 2010 by PB Rippey

Then: morning–brisk and blue, damp grass, cat paw prints on the pergo, budgie whistling at finches picking the white fly from the hibiscus monster outside the kitchen window, the boy enjoying his breakfast, sun, sun, sun. Last night my husband … Continue reading →

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Working

Posted on August 11, 2010 by PB Rippey

Translation: My last computer? Dell. The hard drive crashed I swear to the day of its 3 yr. warranty expiration Continue reading →

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PB’s Wonderful World of Writing

Posted on August 10, 2010 by PB Rippey

In addition to here: http://www.pbrippey.com and here: http://pbrippeyblogma.com, you can now find me here, right here, right where you are, reading with your suspicions and mistrust and well-guarded interest. Recline. Sip your stiff, p.m. dirty martini. Read the following: What in the … Continue reading →

Posted in Adult writing, Fiction, middle grade, To Explain, Writer's Angst | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment