Two weeks into the new year and I'm questioning what-the-hell it is I'm doing.
Or not doing.
I've done a lot of traveling, drinking, dancing, smoking, loving, laughing, and some crying.
(Hey, I'm a girl, I'm allowed.)
What I haven't done is a lot of writing.
This is where it gets dangerous, where I wake up and all of a sudden I'm seventy and saggy and frustrated and alone and asking myself how I fucked up life so bad.
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When it's hot AF you stay inside and read. I do, anyway. Here's a partial list of what I've been reading this summer. A lot of n...
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I attended a Manuscript Academy workshop a few weeks ago, dedicated to working on agent queries and synopses. I watched videos and submitte...
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Gosh I thought I had a pretty good scam detector. I'm a lifelong cynic and so private I've been nicknamed The Vault. And then I got ...
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