why i write


I always fancied myself a writer – the way most scribblers of teen-angst poetry and cheesy romance stories do. A dozen vinyl trapper-keepers, full of short stories and novellas, are stored at my mothers. They’re awful, but I cant bring myself to throw them away. Just in case I do something good one day and,

no, i dont mean utterly


I never noticed adverbs until this year. I knew what they were – I diagramed as many stupid sentences as the next third grader – but I never paid any attention to them. It was the adjectives I loved…..Big…Blue…Boisterous….And used to excess….. Ugly….Uglier….Ugliest. Ughh. I lost a writing contest at nine. Being the incumbent, and

the shortbus conspiracy


When I was 10 and my brother was 8, we rode a ‘regular school bus’ to our local elementary school. My brother stayed behind as I climbed aboard a more compact version of the vehicle and headed to a smaller school in the county seat. Though I had a good idea where my second-leg-busmates ended

boo


I know this woman, right. Her name’s Boo. She keeps her Christmas decorations in her car and gets stoned on Ibuprofen. She can’t help it. I laughed at her once when I was 8 – she wore this super-70s wool coat to pick her kid up from school – it was 1984. I’d kill for

the man with the talking hand


Sometimes I look just like I did when I was two. This wouldn’t be a bad thing if I were two. Or ten. But I’m 28 and trying to be stunning and gorgeous and not look like a frog. It’s this expression I have when I can’t believe what I’m hearing and wouldn’t be interested

where the ground wont move


It’s taken me hella long to get this thing sorted. Five weeks of serious writing before I even knew what I was going to write about. Then I read one of those books you only read as a matter of course in high school or because you’ve joined Oprah’s Book Club and in a sudden

me


Getting to know you, getting to know me. Everyone’s making lists. I wont do the 100 things about ‘I’ because I really don’t know myself well enough for that. But I can do 25………… 1. I grew up in WV. I moved to Europe in 1998. I haven’t left yet. 2. Buffy is my real

vampire slayer……uhh…..no


Alright. First thing first. No vampire slayer jokes. Much as it pains me to admit – and as much as it pained certain male co-workers when they heard the firm had just hired a ‘Buffy’, and came downstairs, one by one (I’m not joking) to investigate and search out the blonde vixen – I am

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