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Where There is No Vision, There is No Hope.
Nascetur netus, nascetur ante elit sodales. Placerat class ante lacus consequat sapien ornare ligula purus justo, arcu felis elementum inceptos. Sociis aenean vestibulum eget ad. Ullamcorper fermentum ligula curabitur nascetur platea. Inceptos nonummy lobortis scelerisque, dictum malesuada a metus feugiat velit netus suscipit pretium
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The Absence of Alternatives Clears the Mind Marvelously.
Nascetur netus, nascetur ante elit sodales. Placerat class ante lacus consequat sapien ornare ligula purus justo, arcu felis elementum inceptos. Sociis aenean vestibulum eget ad. Ullamcorper fermentum ligula curabitur nascetur platea. Inceptos nonummy lobortis scelerisque, dictum malesuada a metus feugiat velit netus suscipit pretium
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When You Say You Are in Love With Humanity, You Are Well Satisfied With Yourself.
Nascetur netus, nascetur ante elit sodales. Placerat class ante lacus consequat sapien ornare ligula purus justo, arcu felis elementum inceptos. Sociis aenean vestibulum eget ad. Ullamcorper fermentum ligula curabitur nascetur platea. Inceptos nonummy lobortis scelerisque, dictum malesuada a metus feugiat velit netus suscipit pretium
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Running on the beach and making peace with the water gods
Making peace with the waves, and finding deeper meaning through personal achievements.
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And that’s that. Farewell, NaNoWriMo 2012.
Even though I honestly had no intention of doing NaNoWriMo, as of this evening it appears I have “won” said writing frenzy. I have brought Joss Raddick from a little tadpole of a man to a Kraken. He is currently on an island, about to enter a Synod with a few other godlings, and he has a big wedge of iron lodged in his skull. He went on a rampage as a Kraken, he met another crazy Kraken, he sired a poet, and he was swindled more than once. He also made some friends. And more than anything, I’ve had such pleasure writing this. Joss has always been one of my…
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Thoughts on 30: Goals for writing, goals for life
I honestly can’t remember a time when I didn’t want to tell stories. But I can tell you when I started taking telling stories seriously (well, not entirely seriously… thankfully). I was 25, had just had a baby, and went through the ringer with postpartum depression. On the other side of that, a truth glimmered. I don’t mean to be hokey or corny, but in the space of a few weeks it became abundantly clear that writing, being a writer, required my attention. It was one of those things that made me, and something I’d been ignoring a long time in favor of more acceptable aspirations. I’ve talked about this…
