This is a story about being stupid. Really, it’s about starting something new and getting so involved that you forget about the little things. Like sleeping. And eating. And maybe showers. Starting a new project is fun and exciting and scary and you never really know how it’s going to turn out. Sometimes, you start down the path and realize
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Sometimes the inside of my head looks a lot like those scenes in High Fidelity when Rob (John Cusack) imagines several — ahem — somewhat less-than-polite responses to Ian’s (Tim Robbins) attempt to get Rob to quit pursuing his ex. I think we all have those moments when some immense fuckwad is pushing our buttons so hard that the idea of
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Once upon a time, there was a little girl named [oh, shit, I didn’t think of a name yet. what’s her name? umm. not something too cutesy or too Brittany. she’s nine, I think. nine seems good. if the story is set in the present, that means she was born in 2010. depending on month, but let’s say 2010. ok,
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A little while ago, I killed off a character. Maybe. Probably. Hard to say what’s real and what’s not, but that’s beside the point. At the moment that I was writing it, he was dead, dead, deadski, regardless of what might or might not happen later. And I didn’t feel bad about it at all. I also completely traumatized another
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I was planning… something… when I typed the word “writing” into a Google search the other day. I’m not trying to be cagey, I just can’t remember what I originally planned to search for. I ended up going down a rabbit hole, instead. After I typed “writing” into the field, Google sprouted some of its handy-dandy suggestions, and the first
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Heather Masterson 