podcasting a novel?
A couple of people have floated the idea that I should podcast one of my novels. Read it aloud, post a chapter a week, and see what happens. Now, for starters, that scares the living daylights out of me. I…
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Seven Angels, Four Kids, One Family
Sometimes sarcasm is the only sane response
A couple of people have floated the idea that I should podcast one of my novels. Read it aloud, post a chapter a week, and see what happens. Now, for starters, that scares the living daylights out of me. I…
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We’ve already talked about how I’m a terrible introvert who scurries away after human contact and hides alone in order to recharge the emotional batteries. 85% of the human population is extraverted, and I honestly don’t understand that. It’s easier…
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In response to the flyover of New York City, which was reportedly a photo op and an attempt to update photos of Air Force One near the Statue of Liberty, I have one word for you: Photoshop. Any one of…
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Remember my literary pause? Well, the time has come to stop editing because ♥My Book♥ has turned into :(My Book 🙁 . Yep, that point in time has come when I’m convinced the whole thing is a pile of garbage. It’s…
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At church on Sunday, I had to take my Very Active Baby into the back because he was being Very Active Indeed. Tarzan himself would have look on in envy of the baby’s technique as he swung from parent to…
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Ivy read a story of mine on the latest episode of KnitSpirit. It originally ran in The Cornell Review about 18 years ago, but I recently retooled it. She had asked for listeners to submit stories about angels, and as…
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Moving into a new house has given us a mystery: what’s in the garden? The previous occupants were gardeners. They landscaped the property and were able to tell me in detail of all the different trees, shrubberies, and flowers they…
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And what, you are asking, is a spucket? Every family ends up with its own made-up words. For example, a “muffin-toast” is Kiddo#3’s word for an English muffin. A don-don is the word Kiddo#1 derived for a thing you hang…
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It’s a running joke that I think my guardian angel hung the moon. This is what happens when you’re sixteen and it feels like an angel has taken an interest in you. The last time I said that, I imagined…
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At Thanksgiving, we forgot our carrot peeler at my mother’s house. Easily remedied, I thought: I would buy another one. Yeah, because if it were that simple, I’d be writing a weblog entry about it six months later, right? Hah. …
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