Hey, I’m back! Sorry about the post drought. Life came up and roundhouse-kicked me in the face, but what can I say. I’m here.
I’ve been thinking, and if I can’t find the time to post TPT stuff, I should probably at least let you in on what the hell I’m doing with myself over here:
You’re on a deserted island… what books did you bring?
The only thing better than reading is writing., but that still makes reading #2 on the list. And though I’m a pretty busy bee, I try to read whenever I can. Because you know what they say: readers make the best writers.
Or something like that.
So, I’m baaaaaaack. Like that nightmare you keep having with the clown holding an ax. Like that itch in that place where you just can’t reach. Like that gnat who’s determined to land on your eyeball. ERR.
As a writer, I do some pretty crazy stuff. Something happened to me the other day that made me wonder if I was a *special* brand of crazy. I was at the grocery store. There was a folded little note on the floor. Common sense told me that picking it up would look a little, err, odd. Then my writer sense kicked in and made me remember that some of the best ideas come from folded up pieces of paper found on floors of supermarkets.
Guess what I did.