When I’m reading a book, I become a Beautiful Exile, not made of Blood and Bone and under no Rule of Law. The only Contract I’m under is between me, the author, and the characters who transplant me Through the Evil Days to a place where I can Hope for the Best and become a Dream Daughter of the reading world. Continue reading
“No!” she protested. “We’re safe here. Let’s just roam.”
His smile, small and protective, told her everything she needed to know.
“It’s okay, you know. It’s okay the way things are,” he assured her. Continue reading
A year ago I lost my purr.
At the time, I didn’t think of it that way. I was suffering the side effects of a concussion. All summer long I’d been unable to enjoy the activities that helped me feel fulfilled.
- Limited screen time, which meant little to no computer/TV/Kindle/phone usage.
- Reading was difficult because of eye strain and blur.
- I mean, really, even thinking was a chore.
What’s a writer-woman to do? Continue reading
So when Sue woke up last night at 3:23 a.m. feeling as if she’d just popped out of a virtual reality show, she knew what she had to do.
She waited impatiently until the bank opened at 9. Continue reading