The twelve-year-old has been watching classic Twilight Zone episodes in their dramatic literature class:
“They seem to either be very scary or pretty boring.”
An e-zine about spaceships, aliens, science, memory, motherhood, magic, and cats.
The twelve-year-old has been watching classic Twilight Zone episodes in their dramatic literature class:
“They seem to either be very scary or pretty boring.”
The more I learn about people and the world, the harder it is to ignore that a lot of my favorite music (60s pop/rock) is just whiny men writing hateful Reddit screeds complaining about women… but with soaring falsettos, driving guitar, and a catchy beat. Continue reading “Silence is Golden”
One of my kid’s friends told their parent they’re an atheist & their parent told them to never tell anyone because they’d be shot in the street.
Noelle (2019) is the new best Christmas movie. It has much the same energy as Elf (2003), but starring the amazing, awesome Anna Kendrick. Totally delightful.
The freshly shorn mop dog thinks back on the horrors she has seen today — razor, scissors, nail clippers — it is too ghastly for words, and she has no words, only a memory of her matted, tangled locks.
There’s a vendor in Diablo 3 who says, “That’s too expensive,” if you accidentally click an extra time when buying from her, which happens often.
And every. single. time. I hear in my head, “Much like six eggs.”
The mop dog gets very cuddly when there’s thunder. Continue reading “Tidbits of Diablo, Mandalorian, and Parenting”
The twelve-year-old: “So… you have two wolves inside you… one of them is Alexander Hamilton and one of them is Aaron Burr.”
There’s a conversation going around about how short fiction zines are generally not actually financially self-sustaining.
My personal favorite solution? Universal Basic Income. Continue reading “Sustainability of Short Fiction Magazines”
That feeling when going to bed is too hard because your toothbrush is buried in a suitcase, and the suitcases are all on your bed. So you curl up next to one of the suitcases, check your phone, and groan at the idea of being up in eleven hours because that’s just too soon.
Time is always confusing, but it seems to be especially bewildering while flying west across time zones. Continue reading “Flying Back from Midwest Furfest”