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This weekend, Trifextra wants 33 words about rebirth.
… Read the restOr will I instead remain solid, true?
Do the stars truly flicker in their black firmament?
The core is in the asking.
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Trifextra is all about layers this week. Come play and expose your own core.
… Read the restThis does.
My kids were with me on Friday, December 14. It was my birthday, and the opening night of the Nutcracker, in which they both performed.… Read the rest
You know, they say vodka doesn’t smell like anything, but that’s not true. It’s similar to isopropyl rubbing alcohol. If I open the bottle in a stuffy room, the place takes on a faintly medicinal odor, as if what I was doing belonged in a hospital, like I might turn to the doctor next to me and ask if Nurse Green had given him a scalpel and could I borrow it for awhile.… Read the rest
“Honey, you did it last week.”
“I can’t.”
And no, today, she can’t. I hate being the one who has to constantly remind her, “you can you can you can”. I hate sending her the mixed message that autism enhances her life while telling her to accomplish the things that autism makes damn nigh impossible. And I hate that I’m right when I do it.
Because she can tie her shoes. She can. Just not today. Only she has to do it today, on a day when she can’t, or she’ll lose the muscle memory.… Read the rest
However, AmyBeth Inverness, who is a kickass awesome writer herself, and whose writing, along with mine, appears in the Write on Edge Anthology Precipice, went and interviewed me for her blog. She asked some great questions, and if you head over there, you can find out who I think shot first, Han or Greedo.… Read the rest
I told you I can’t unlive the knife twisting ghost holidays. But every year with you is a year further away. And I trust your peaceful days and your level soul.
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Truthfully, the winter holidays will never be any of my favorite things. But Scott and his family make them manageable for me, so that I can avoid clouding my children’s impressions of the season. And if the stories that come out of those gatherings would be boring to anyone who wasn’t there, then they must have been good days indeed.
… Read the resthttp://trudgingthroughfog.wordpress.com/2012/11/13/a-favor/
“Please.” The woman continued looking away from Joan, who turned the bezoar with her tail.
“Unripe persimmons?”
“Yes.” For the first time, the two regarded each other across the table, serpent and woman.
Joan said, “It’s the most common cause.” Her sibilant s’s seemed to soothe her patient. “But it can’t tell me anything.”
“Please!” The woman hefted her purse onto the table.
“No. Even without it, I think we can undo some of his damage.” She nodded to the woman’s ripe belly. “But we’re going to have to hurry.… Read the rest
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November is the month of the writer. NaNoWriMo. NaBloWriMo. Thirty full days of typing and progress. Thirty days of community building and butt-in-chair work. I love it. I love everything about it. I get high on the very idea and spiral around in a dance with myself.
But as enthusiastic as the month of writing makes me, I don’t join either meme. I cheerlead my friends from the sidelines, but I don’t hook up myself.… Read the rest