Things I Love

Sometimes I think there’s nothing I love more than making lists. But then I remember how much I hate hyperbole and how–really–I love all these other things a lot more. Continue reading “Things I Love”

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Lessons learned

When I was a teenager, I used to keep a list of the wise things my mother said. I called them her “rules for life,” and I had no doubt that one or the other of us would eventually use them as the starting point for a book. I meant to keep adding to them as the years went by, but I’m notoriously bad about writing myself notes and then forgetting where I’ve stashed them or–even worse–not writing them in the Continue reading “Lessons learned”

Why I wrote, and why I write.

211302643_3d7e3df154When I was ten, I got my first diary as a Christmas present. It had a lock, but it was no problem to open the journal without the key. Turns out this was good, because soon enough the key had vanished, probably stolen by my brother or swallowed by the dog. I kept writing in the little purple diary for months, regardless. Continue reading “Why I wrote, and why I write.”