When I say I love scary stories, I am exponentially understating things. And when October hits, there is nothing I love more than a good scary story. I want them so badly. But not every scary story hits the same. In this brief manifest-o* I will outline what kind of stories
I’m a power reader who devours a high volume of books every year, BUT a great percentage of said books are selected for me—books for work or because a friend needs someone to talk to about the book in question. When I read a book of my own choosing, just for
“Don’t make the joke,” I tell myself. “People are going to take it the wrong way.” Unfortunately for the tiny sliver of brain I devote to common sense, once a thought makes me giggle, it’s only a matter of time before I act on it. Or, make the joke out loud
So, it’s that time again—NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month, which is November since the first letters are the same as in novel; cute innit?). I’ve done many NaNoWriMos in the past, but am passing on the official game this year due to issues with the org itself (from a scandal last
Hang around enough writers groups and creative writing classes, and you’ll come across history’s most emetic sandwich: the compliment sandwich. That overly prescriptive, insincere way of giving feedback in a praise-criticism-praise formula that leaked out of the corporate jargon vanity management book world and into the real world where it could
Recently, a dear friend— And at this point, gentle reader, I was interrupted not once but twice in a row by my impressively sized orange cat (Barry, short for The Red Baron), casually sauntering across my desk to plomp his not unsubstantial girth across both my mouse and keyboard, roll over,
Writing routines can really be quite a double-edged sword. There’s the obvious good side: developing good habits (the *doing* the writing part being, of course, the most important), and using memory cues to help you jump back into your story efficiently. (On that note, just look at the old psychological studies
Last fall, I sprained an ankle. It was a mild sprain, from an extended time walking on steep terrain in the rain. I didn’t even notice the injury at the time. This wasn’t my first ankle rodeo, so I knew what to do. I rested it. But then I got too
I grew up reading books where kids jumped in lakes and rivers to swim. I also grew up in Louisiana with a bayou just beyond my back yard. I grew up with my parents constantly telling me not to jump in the bayou behind our house to swim, because it was
With ChatGPT all over the news, everyone who loves juvenile humor is an honorary francophone. It turns out that, spoken aloud, “ChatGPT” sounds like “Chat j’ai pété,” which translates to “Cat, I farted.” This will likely be the greatest contribution that ChatGPT will make to society. I see all sorts of