I wrote 50,000 words this month. In order, mostly.
Act One is drafted. Outlined. Scribbled. It has gone from random wisps of electrical pulses in my brain goo to lines and dots and marks on my computer (and in the cloud — I’m not crazy enough not to back up). Continue reading Walking Through Jello
I am convinced that the suburbs were not developed so much as unearthed by an unrelenting army of leaf blowers. Continue reading Zero Draft