Scissors. Part two.

Or: A number of surprising realizations and a typewriter. Okay. Kind of left you trailing last time … let me catch you up. If you will recall, I’m getting my stitches taken out (part one) by someone fabulously incompetent. Or hilariously incompetent...

Scissors.

So the other day I’m in the surgery room waiting to have stitches taken out — — and before you completely freak out because you are my mother, let me reassure you that it was not a big deal at all and it was just a thing being removed by the...

Pirate beauty and other good things.

Have you ever noticed how when you lose something you’ve written, it just happens to be the one piece that is completely brilliant? Because pretty much the only time I’m absolutely positive that what I’ve written is full of sparkly bits of genius is...
The Fluent Self