I just read my last post about creating quirky characters and groaned. Out loud. And made that hideous pig-snorting face reserved for people who have just done something stupid.

What kind of an idiot makes herself into a cutsie fake character on a blog? To make matters worse, I read this

This week I’m reading  Stephen Chbosky’s The Perks of Being a Wallflower and, of course, now I’m thinking about how I like quirky, distinct characters in writing.

Also I’m wondering how best to create my own characters like Charlie, the book’s first-person narrator.

If you haven’t read the book, it’s worth the read. Unless

That’s what it feels like, this writing insanity: exposing yourself, then begging people to distribute the evidence.

The recent news that I’ve actually had my work accepted by a journal is bittersweet.

I’m completely neurotic about what my bio should say, my head shot, if my mother will disown me for the

Five hours ago I received an email from Narrative magazine congratulating me on having my teensy story accepted for publication. I’m so happy that I  feel like puking.

Narrative magazine! How I love that publication.

If you don’t already have the phone app, you really should, because it’s rad.

So what, you might ask, would anyone want to read

My last post was about my choice to pursue on MFA in creative writing. This one’s about which MFA program I chose and how I chose it.

But first I’d like to echo the article Poets & Writers wrote on the topic this past fall and say that my decision to

I made the transition from working 40+ hours a week as an executive manager in a public agency to becoming a full-time writer and graduate student over a period of several years.

Joining or starting a writing group can provide focus, direction, and writing support. Also deadlines help motive

*big sigh* Monday begins.

But my head is still back relaxing in my computer-free weekend in Sequim, Washington.

In addition to celebrating (belatedly) the birthday of a family member, I caught up on some reading.

Right before driving out on Friday night, I pulled from my “almost overdue” pile of library books  MariNaomi’s

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Nayelli wants to take a shower. She needs one, actually. It’s been two days.

Two days since she’s had a sanity break—free from kid noises, hands pulling at her clothes, and everyone wanting to be held. Nayelli needs self-time, just warm water and steam and blank walls and her body standing

This is my first Hot Pink Underwear story. About this girl who quit her job during a huge recession. Maybe this is a true story. Anyway, this first part’s boring. She starts a grad program then loses a leg to gangrene and adopts a circus monkey named Popo. Maybe that’s fiction.

I should