May 29, 2010
“Hi, my name is Terri, and I’m a chocoholic,” I confess to the half dozen people sitting on folding chairs in a circle in the tiny basement room of the Lutheran church a few blocks from my house. Chocoholic’s Anonymous meets there twice weekly.
“Hi, Terri,” everyone replies.
May 29, 2010
May 28, 2010
Writing What I Write
May 28, 2010
Sometimes when people find out that I’ve produced a few novels, they ask how I do it. I usually shrug my shoulders and say I don’t know, especially since I promised myself I would never turn into one of those long-winded, exceedingly boring writers who talk endlessly about process. Never say never, I guess.
Sometimes when people find out that I’ve produced a few novels, they ask how I do it. I usually shrug my shoulders and say I don’t know, especially since I promised myself I would never turn into one of those long-winded, exceedingly boring writers who talk endlessly about process. Never say never, I guess.
May 23, 2010
Birdemic 43214
May 23, 2010
Don’t you just love that word? It’s the title of one of those bad films that’s supposed to be so awful it’s good. It was written, directed, and produced by a man named James Nguyen, who took the movie to Sundance, even though the jury had—wisely I’m sure—already rejected it. Nyugen drove a van around town with a poster that misspelled the title but gained him enough attention that Birdemic is actually playing in selected theaters around the country.
Don’t you just love that word? It’s the title of one of those bad films that’s supposed to be so awful it’s good. It was written, directed, and produced by a man named James Nguyen, who took the movie to Sundance, even though the jury had—wisely I’m sure—already rejected it. Nyugen drove a van around town with a poster that misspelled the title but gained him enough attention that Birdemic is actually playing in selected theaters around the country.
May 16, 2010
Story Fragment
May 16, 2010
Sometimes when I’m between projects, pieces of stories come to me. Usually, I don’t write them down. I figure that, if they’re important enough, they’ll stick. Lots of times, too, I get interesting ideas that are just ideas. I may come up with a few paragraphs and get stuck on “what’s next.”
Sometimes when I’m between projects, pieces of stories come to me. Usually, I don’t write them down. I figure that, if they’re important enough, they’ll stick. Lots of times, too, I get interesting ideas that are just ideas. I may come up with a few paragraphs and get stuck on “what’s next.”
May 8, 2010
Motherhood Through the Other End of the Telescope
May 8, 2010
I remember the afternoon my daughter was born like it was yesterday. Except it was four decades ago. Still, I can see her tiny face and hear her cry out as the doctor placed her hot little self on my stomach. Her head was pointy, and she looked kind of blue.
I remember the afternoon my daughter was born like it was yesterday. Except it was four decades ago. Still, I can see her tiny face and hear her cry out as the doctor placed her hot little self on my stomach. Her head was pointy, and she looked kind of blue.
May 2, 2010
Finding Myself
May 2, 2010
Several times this past week, my Facebook home page has instructed me to add myself as a friend. After all, the two of us have so much in common, including an identical list of mutual acquaintances. In the next breath, it has also informed me that it’s my solemn duty to make contact suggestions for my husband—and more than once!
Several times this past week, my Facebook home page has instructed me to add myself as a friend. After all, the two of us have so much in common, including an identical list of mutual acquaintances. In the next breath, it has also informed me that it’s my solemn duty to make contact suggestions for my husband—and more than once!
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