When life inspires art — Sometimes you’re not blocked. You don’t have anything to write about. It’s very common. I’ve been told not to worry, it happens to the best of us. …

Don’t blame me Medium made me crazy — May has been fire. But, I tire. I’ve written every day, except when I was deathly sick. I’ve met a bunch of writers who inspire me to be unfazed by the negativity. We’ve been laughing it up in the comments. They’ve been kind enough to follow me. Maybe I want…

Launching Writer’s Block Wednesdays, a New Podcast — I check my setup twice, after wiping my sweaty palms on my pajama bottoms. The office I’m borrowing is perfect, not giving any amateur vibes. Logan Roy’s recently departed soul, or ghost as he likes to be called, walks in exactly when the clock strikes midnight. Say what you will…

But the general temperament is gray — Every day the question of weather hangs more ominous than the graying clouds. The warmth is familiar, but the cool is what I desire, I think. The artist would paint loudly with their brush. Use the inspiration from every drop, and wipe the blues away. …

Writing Prompt: The Reverse Bechdel Test — “Did she text yet?” I shook my head in response, letting Timothy read my grim expression. You can hide from the world, but not from your best friend. Especially on Sunday nights after two glasses of wine. I needed to talk about my feelings. “You need to let this one…

Only it’s the phase that doesn’t end — I had this picture of who I would be at thirty. Life, career, and hair all put together, I would approach life with a little less doubt—a little less pain. At 15, when I watched the better romantic comedies which featured a 30-something woman as the main character, I worked…

And here’s how it went down — I woke up blindfolded, with a paper bag over my head. I nudged my Anxiety awake, urging it to take action. Like flight or fight or some shit. It was the dead of the morning, and I was terribly tired. “Shh, it’s going to be okay,” said a voice not…

Brainwaves from three days spent in bed — I was deathly sick last week. No, I’m not exaggerating for effect. Late summer rains brought with it not much relief from the heat but a bout of influenza so deadly, my lungs are still coughing up phlegm. …

On not taking chances, but defining them — “How much does it say?” “Three and a half months. The longest I’ve ever gotten.” “Really? I’m surprised”. I was too, but I hid mine rather well. When you volunteer all your information, as if they didn't have it already, they come up with a number. The ideal number of…