Originally published by 49 Writers. Photo by Clark Fair.
I was a teen in 1990s Soldotna, Alaska—the setting for my debut novel—so people often ask me if The Ocean in My Ears is a thinly disguised memoir. The short
Originally published by 49 Writers. Photo by Clark Fair.
I was a teen in 1990s Soldotna, Alaska—the setting for my debut novel—so people often ask me if The Ocean in My Ears is a thinly disguised memoir. The short
I bet not a single family member, friend, or even social media contact is unaware that I wrote a book that’s coming out this fall from Portland State University’s Ooligan Press. There’s been plenty of social media hubbub.
My own story as a writer is one of achieving a dream. Mine is
Margaret Atwood’s themes of survival, images of the body, and the implicit questions about what it means to be female reached inside me and shook me. Slowly, on the cusp of twenty years old, I began to wake from a dark, oblivious sleep.
I was all dreamy over Ooligan Press after pitching my book at the 2016 Write to Publish Conference. Then this happened…
Ooligan’s amazing Acquisitions Editors, Molly and Bess, emailed in March that they were excited about Conspiring to be Meri and wanted to pitch the novel to their executive committee. I had no idea
My friend Karen and I road-tripped to Portland last month. We stayed in a skanky-ish hotel, and what we saved on lodging we spent on food. Totally worth it. We also went to Ooligan Press‘ Write to Publish conference at Portland State University.
Here’s what I learned: 1.) I suck at driving in Portland, 2.)
I try not to make a habit of wanting things, especially the desire-in-my-loins-can’t-sleep-until-I-have-it kind of want. Because wanting something THAT bad creates the possibility of profound disappointment, and like most humans, I’m averse
Hello again, pretty blog people! The other day I met up with independent author Missy Anne Peterson at a local hotspot where they serve a mean tofu and egg English muffin sandwich and asked her questions about her debut novel, Jimmy James Blood, a dark story about a rough group of teenagers growing
Usually I give it up for free. Now I feel used and I haven’t even held the check in my hand, just a contract promising me $250. (I hear that’s good money for what I just did.)
Yeah, that’s right. I sold a piece of myself…A piece of writing.
I thought it would