Search for something once and Google will assume that you want to know EVERYTHING about that thing FOREVER AND EVER. If I have to scroll through pages and pages of Game of Thrones clickbait before I get to anything that isn’t related to Game of Thrones, that’s a bit much. Sure, I could tell Google that I’m not interested anymore,
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I talked about stories the other day, and it made me think about the stories that I have to tell. Some I’ve told before, either in person or in print. Others are just floating around in the back of my brain, waiting for an opportune moment. One thing led to another, and I decided that if I’m ever motivated to
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We all have stories to tell. No matter how boring or normal or whatever you think your life is, you have stories. They may be small, big, funny, serious, heartbreaking, or just plain weird, but you have them. There’s a lot of stuff out there about love, relationships, friendship — all of the different ways that we connect with each
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I’ve mentioned before (probably more times than necessary) how generally disorganized I am when it comes to writing. I can’t plan, I can’t outline, I can’t see from one chapter to the next most of the time. Heck, I can’t even stick to writing chapters sequentially. I have to use a dry-erase board to keep track of everybody so they
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Ok. Here goes. I’m going to do it. ***Spoilers*** for Game of Thrones ahead. If you’re not poised on the brink of madness, waiting for the final episode, you might want to look away now. This is going to be a long one. Twitter did what it always does last night — exploded with indignation, smugness, laughter, mocking, shitposting, and
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Heather Masterson 