mrs heard said she would buy the groceries herself (because nobody wants to pay grocery pickup convenience fees In This Economy)

just missed the one year anniversary of the day my yard was blessed with a visit from this beautiful snapping turtle who I think knew on sight that I would help protect her nest

built an addition on the fairy house for summer - the seashell patio and spiral stairs - driftwood, tile grout, styrofoam, bamboo skewers, and some shells

while the plotlines in my stories are distinct, the protagonists are nearly always on a delayed coming-of-age kind of journey? the details vary, but the engine is a woman of roughly saturn return age self-actualizing in spite of a difficult past

This has to be the best feeling. Thank you so much for reading my story 💗💗

apropos nothing, some art by Tim Raymond (@iamsitting on Instagram) that feels important

my favorite kind of motivational speaker is someone I resent telling me “I don’t think you’re capable of that.” I will never be convinced that spite has no role in success

an old and possibly maladaptive habit of making a yes or no decision by imagining what I would do if the outcome didn’t matter

minor decisions that feel way too momentous, or is it the other way around

noncommittally considering the idea that I’m dragging my feet finishing this book because I’ve outgrown it and my next book needs to be a different kind of story

spent several hours yesterday making pie crust and rolling the dough and cutting crusts for hand pies. my entire upper body hurts. people who bake professionally must have mad upper body strength

the 5 am drinking my coffee and reading about birds club #5amwritersclub

not much line editing happening. I think I am subconsciously afraid of finishing the project, or subconsciously afraid that it’s irredeemable trash (not in a good way). Or maybe just consciously afraid. Anyhow, that’s part of my process—it will pass and writing will resume, if it’s meant to be

my tiny darling, tearing around the neighborhood in girly girl gingham, tyrannosaurus helmet, and black all stars ⭐️

once a month from May - September, my charming and tiny riverside town hosts a concert at the local park. it’s rural and everyone knows everyone and everybody brings their children and their dogs. a great opportunity for anyone who’s ever wanted to spend an evening living in a Nicholas Sparks novel

the columbines in my garden are really showing off this spring

an unsatisfying update: reread the entire document twice, still no clue what happened

copy-pasted all my chapters into a new document because my dumb ass decided to tinker with my chapter order again only to finish and realize that even though both documents have all the same chapters, the new doc has 3k more words than the other. no gif or emoji could convey my complete annoyance

too tired for #5amwritersclub because I decided at 11 pm last night to trim this subplot. so I guess my copyedit wasn’t done yet after all. all for the best though, I personally love a story that takes its time beginning but I don’t give myself the same luxury

most times when I’ve caught myself writing a character I really dislike spending any time on, it’s been a me problem — in most such cases I found the character boring because I hadn’t thought through their motivation, or hadn’t seen the character fully.

I guess you can add “makes a mean clover crown” to my resume of useless skills

all of my self-imposed writing deadlines are built around family beach trips and when I can squeeze in early mornings and late nights

if I can line edit at least one chapter per day, and make sure that on at least nine of those days I edit two chapters, I can wrap this up before my little boy’s birthday trip to the beach

sat down to write a bit and my six-year-old jogged through the sitting room and said “so mom, what’s the problem in your book?” and I said, good question, let me explain, and he goes “no thanks, I’m on my way to get a snack!” so that was a good reminder that I need to get an elevator pitch in order

the best picture I have taken of my pet? too many to choose just one favorite, but I think she looks happy here. Like she knows she is wonderful and I adore her.

it’s rough but all the moving parts are in working order, and I only missed my arbitrary self-imposed deadline by seven minutes. Next up, line edits!

once again I locked in too intensely for too long and have worked myself into a state of uselessness. starting to think I’m really, like, epically bad at knowing when to pause and take a break

plot twist! Turns out the problem was my fault. But my point mostly stands

with four days left, I’m only halfway through the manuscript, but I’m down 5k words and the latter half has more recently been reworked, so I’m still optimistic I’ll make my arbitrary deadline 🌟

such small but exquisite power in radiating calm when someone comes to you with a problem & expects you to panic. I will help fix your problem, and you are welcome to join me in being level-headed, but what you won’t do is pull me into your dysregulation

1. The Devouring, by the delightful Shilling @gunsmile.bsky.social (it’s amazing) 2. Our Mutual Friend, Charles Dickens 3. I’m a chaos gremlin w/ no idea what my next read will be until I find it. Suggestions always welcome 4. The one I always come back to is Bitterroot Landing by Sherri Reynolds

“one wolf says ‘put down your shield, we’re stronger than the patterns we learned before we experienced safety!’ and the other says ‘the appearance of kindness is a TRAP and we’re actually very comfortable growing moss in the emotional bomb shelter, please go away’”

Really wish I could convey how joyful it is to see my little boy play dodgeball. One hundred percent Gavroche mode. Making the most of his relatively smaller size. Playing like his life depends on it. Every night he reads to me from The Hobbit. A boy at full volume. A complete delight

The foxfoot lily (Erythroneum igneus spp. mutabilis) is extinct in the wild, so if one were to turn up during the story, whether a gift or a random discovery, it would be such a big deal. Not a real flower, but a fictional relative of trout lilies. I can’t draw so I made this to help me picture it.

Just 14 seats left for my play! If you or someone you know lives in the Portland area and wants to see new, experimental theater, my play and one other will be part of a Supernatural Saturday performance at HART Theatre tomorrow evening, 7:30 pm. Tickets: hart.ludus.com/index.php?sh...

I named my protagonist Valerie (and associated nicknames) because of the movie Valerie and Her Week of Wonders. Only emotional vampires here, but when you read the book, I promise it will make sense. My references are all over the place though, the love interest is named after a Dickens character

Did it. The word count bloat has significantly improved, and the story flows better without it. I am grateful to everyone who chimed in with support and commiseration 🌟

"sorry for the f words but you didn't tell me i was on speaker phone while shopping in the children's section" is something i did not say today but probably should have. listen, people who know me know that if kids aren't around i curse like a sailor. it's not classy but i am what i am

The exhortation to “take lots of pictures” wasn’t designed for vagabonds and flaneuses. I wasn’t built to keep photos of everywhere I’ve ever been and everyone I’ve met. In fact it seems a bit wrong. I’d rather trust it all to my imperfect memory. (tldr; I’m deleting all my old pictures)

realized last night I have to delete an unnecessary scene that I really love. The final boss of darlings. I put my writing away on the spot, went to sleep, grouchy dreams, woke up in denial trying to make it work. No good, it has to go. This one hurts. I’ll put on a brave face later but not yet

there are 62 things on my to do list and all I want to do is sit in the garden and work on the fairy house

Tomorrow!!! This is sure to be a great read. Pre-order if you haven’t already 🔥

cursed from an early age with a need to describe the things around me, put it on paper because a lot of the time it isn’t the time or place to opine about the trees and one’s feelings and etc. Really I guess I took to writing to spare the people around me having to hear my thoughts

have you ever written dialogue that’s so good and so on character but just not plot-relevant enough to make the final draft? it feels like I wrote fan fiction about my own book, so silly

I guess it happens to the best of us, but damnit #5amwritersclub

a problem with my creative process is that I have been second-guessing myself compulsively for so long. Three times questioning the same subplot and circling back to “well, I had it the first way for a reason, and that works best.” Copy edits will be brief and merciless. I am hungry for line edits

guilty of feeding the crows apples and nuts In This Economy because I’ve been cultivating this friendship for two years and damned if I let this stupid world steal my joy

Back to my manuscript, giving myself a deadline for this copy edit. Say April 17. And, go. #5amwritersclub

imagine my delight when I wandered across an indie bookshop in this little island village. this is Books to be Red on Ocracoke Island - amazingly well-stocked, and housed in a renovated 1898 beach cottage. My heart!

little walk in a maritime forest. ancient live oaks, junipers, salt marshes. epic mosquitoes too, but worth it