She/her
...finally.
...finally.
...how about all of you who can afford to hire a full time assistant
...or maybe just those that can quit their day job...
#writing #writers #books
Pay attention to what steadies you — a quiet moment, a voice, a song — and keep those things close. They ain’t escapes; they’re anchors.
Pay attention to what steadies you — a quiet moment, a voice, a song — and keep those things close. They ain’t escapes; they’re anchors.
We will carry on the fight.
--Street art by Topsy.
We will carry on the fight.
--Street art by Topsy.
TV mysteries with a writer at the center of attention...like nothing that is portrayed has anything to do with reality. Nothing. Sheesh. 🤣🙄
TV mysteries with a writer at the center of attention...like nothing that is portrayed has anything to do with reality. Nothing. Sheesh. 🤣🙄
"I was born in the snow," Basil said. "My Dam was raiding when a storm hit. She had no choice but to find an old flower pot and pop me out. Gave me character."
This intimate revelation from a forest fairie seemed odd. We were hunkered down in the snow, but prepared to meet a monster.
"I was born in the snow," Basil said. "My Dam was raiding when a storm hit. She had no choice but to find an old flower pot and pop me out. Gave me character."
This intimate revelation from a forest fairie seemed odd. We were hunkered down in the snow, but prepared to meet a monster.
The forest fairies leader
Released the rope
From my left hand
And set to work
On my right
When a hush rose
All hundred plus fairies
Grew #quiet
Staring into
The dark underbelly
Of the spruce and pine
And then I saw it
That #glow
Pulsing low
To the ground
And heard
The familiar hum
The forest fairies leader
Released the rope
From my left hand
And set to work
On my right
When a hush rose
All hundred plus fairies
Grew #quiet
Staring into
The dark underbelly
Of the spruce and pine
And then I saw it
That #glow
Pulsing low
To the ground
And heard
The familiar hum
That perches in the soul -
And sings the tune without the words -
And never stops - at all -
And sweetest - in the Gale - is heard -
And sore must be the storm -
That could abash the little Bird
That kept so many warm
-Emily Dickinson
That perches in the soul -
And sings the tune without the words -
And never stops - at all -
And sweetest - in the Gale - is heard -
And sore must be the storm -
That could abash the little Bird
That kept so many warm
-Emily Dickinson
They tasted pepper spray
My writing feels too shallow
To make a difference
#haiku #poetry
They tasted pepper spray
My writing feels too shallow
To make a difference
#haiku #poetry
We took a walk
Around the #bay
Wet sand
Clinging to our boots
Soaked through
With #drizzle
We found crinoid stems
Belemnites by the handful
And one
Almost perfect
Ammonite
Then you kissed me
To say #thanks
For an almost
Perfect day
Then I kissed you
Because...well...
We took a walk
Around the #bay
Wet sand
Clinging to our boots
Soaked through
With #drizzle
We found crinoid stems
Belemnites by the handful
And one
Almost perfect
Ammonite
Then you kissed me
To say #thanks
For an almost
Perfect day
Then I kissed you
Because...well...