An e-zine about spaceships, aliens, science, memory, motherhood, magic, and cats.
I’ve been trying to write a musical of Otters In Space for the last decade. The first song is “Vote for a Cat,” and the only part of it that I know for sure is that it ends with the words, “Vote for a cat!”
That’s is. That’s what I’ve got. Continue reading “Otters In Space Musical”
Writing a one page summary of a 100k-word novel is brutal.
It’s good luck to submit a manuscript during a total lunar eclipse, right? Continue reading “Grim-Sweet, Eclipse Luck, and Slush Snacks”
Plan:
1 – edit all night long until the lunar eclipse
2 – go outside and look at the clouds over the moon
3 – submit my novel to Apex Publications
4 – get very little sleep and be tired all day tomorrow
The coffee shop I was writing at closed before I finished writing my story. So I went to a second coffee shop, and I had a second chai. And now I feel very caffeinated. But I finished the story!
I’ve been getting a lot of writing done lately, and I want to be clear about something — staring at my computer & feeling like I have absolutely no idea how I’ll manage to write even a single word is still a big part of my process.
Movies I watched tonight — “Popstar: Never Stop Never Stopping” and “Pan’s Labyrinth.” They, uh, clashed rather badly.
As we marched, suddenly, the ten-year-old called out, “WHAT DO WE WANT?”
And all around, the crowd grew quiet. You could practically hear everyone thinking, “What? What do we want? Which thing are we supposed to call back??!!”
Finally a woman called out, “JUSTICE!” And the chant went on.
I have a new routine — I brush my teeth while sitting next to the fish tank and reading. This makes my fish very happy.
Talking to the four-year-old about how he needs to settle down and go to sleep, he suddenly got really somber and quiet. A moment later, with absolute seriousness: “I just remembered, I’ve never fallen asleep.”
One of my favorite lines from Michael Copperman during tonight’s discussion of Kazuo Ishiguro’s brilliant novel, “Never Let Me Go,” at Wordcrafters In Eugene — “You’d be surprised how often the heavy-handed, clunky move is the one you need.” Continue reading “Stray Thoughts on a Random Day”
The four-year-old, speaking of the small dog: “I wish Amy could talk like me.” A moment later, “I’ll pretend she’s talking.”
Yep, that’s my kid.
The four-year-old’s excuse for not listening to me at the park: “I left my ears at home.”