Writing Prompt

Procrastination, for Dummies

Trust me — it is not as easy as it looks. You have to have stamina, a budding curiosity, and the will to achieve more than you have set out for. I’m talking about procrastination, people: one of the toughest games out there.

Playing Catch-up

At the end of October, I took two weeks away from all of my commitments to travel, to attend a conference and to visit with family. It was a much-needed vacation; I relaxed, pondered my options and considered the next phase in my life.

My Cup of Tea, photograph.

My Cup of Tea: Manuscript Development

I once spent an entire day at the New Hampshire Craftsmen’s Fair looking for the perfect mug; any tea drinker will tell you, the mug matters. Similarly, any writer will tell you their editing team makes all the difference. Over the past few weeks, I’ve had the privilege of being a beta reader for a…


TIME – Part I, A Short Story

It has been a long time… The tall grass, and the whistle of the wind across the dunes. The seagulls swooping at far-off schools, while the sun glistens in blinding flashes off of the swaying ocean tide. The smell of the salty air and the reek of the mucky marsh nearby intermingle in nasal passageways. It…

Husky Puppy

Thank you, Muse!

I am addicted to my WordPress reader. It is true: whenever I open a fresh browser with the best intention of constructing a post, I am sucked into my reader and I disappear. Enough time passes for me to totally forget why I popped onto the inter-web to begin with. It is not a bad…

Cricket on a Sunflower; bug on a flower.

The Small Things…

It has been a busy couple of weeks… I’m taking on projects like a leaky skiff in high seas — but the ride is too much fun to turn back to shore. I keep telling myself that I have to learn how to say ‘NO’ when it comes to payment-free projects, but I can’t help but get swept away by…

Poetry, Prose, Collaborative writing by strangers.

Prose By 8 Strangers.

  I don’t remember the last time I went skinny-dipping. I don’t remember the last time I ate a pickle. I definitely remember the last time I was touched. I absolutely remember the last time I died. You were there, holding my hand, promising me anything, everything — a bike ride on your handlebars on that endless August day, your…