Would you believe, Dear Reader, that I sat down in January and began composing this piece only to be distracted by life events and then failed to return to the project? Today, on this dreary February afternoon, while I hunker down during a tornado watch and try not to jump as the thunder shakes the house and lightning flashes, I’m attempting to finish writing this. When, at long last, you get to read this, we’ll likely be in the early…
November rolled in with a gust of warm air, a charge of excitement, and a frenzy of typing. There were late nights and early mornings, never a great combination. We reveled in virtual word sprints, where many of us learned how fast we could type when the screws were put to our thumbs. We partied at write-ins, both virtual and in person, and laughed until our sides hurt. We wrote in unusual places, some of which shall never be mentioned,…
“Where have you been?” I hear it distinctly said in Mrs Weasley’s voice, do you? The high shrill, the extra emphasis on have, the terror her voice evoked as her boy’s avoided looking directly at her. I’ve had that very quote running through my head for weeks now. Life has been crazy, and I’ve not been writing much on this little corner of the web. It’s not that crazy and unusual things aren’t happening, oh they are. I mean, today…
I am a storyteller. I do not know when the gift was given to me, or when I even became aware that I had this gift. Does one sit around wondering when they learned to breathe? Stories seek me out, encapsulate me, and hold me hostage until I tell their whole existence, every minute detail. They haunt me, filling my dreams with their escapades as they romp through their lives demanding I notice and hear them, begging me not to…