I decide to spend a few minutes tweaking a sentence or two and…poof. Three hours. I play with adjectives the way nine-year-olds play with Legos.
While carpooling, I scheme plots. I once forgot an entire class this way. I was the teacher.
Every library in Northeast Ohio is (or has been) my office. No library? No Panera? No problem. I write stories in the parking lot while my kid swims a few thousand yards. I find a far-off space, hop in the passenger seat of my 1999 good-on-gas Corolla, and belt out whatever I can.
I’m fortunate to have students come to my home. We read classics together, and I share what I know about writing. Writing=Love. The class is called 5000 Words because I promised the moms their kids will have written a minimum of 5000 words in six week’s time. Kids walk into my class tight as lug nuts and—after a few sessions—could pen Leaves of Grass at gunpoint (this has not been tested).
People in my general vicinity would say I’m always too busy, that I rarely make time for a cup of coffee but I’ll be there in a minute if you’re in crisis. I’m sensitive as an egg, and I’ll ruthlessly beat you in Scrabble. I have a soft spot for one-eyed cats and underdogs. My husband is my Superman.
Some of me, Published:
Coming January/February 2019: Skeleton in a White Dress – Ink in Thirds
Coming October 15: The Outrider – The Corona Book of Science Fiction
Trouble – Zeroflash Anthology, coming soon