February 8, 2011


Why Did I Not Think Of This?

Just got the best tip from an ex’s current girlfriend: A night that you can’t be with the guy you’re seeing, order and pay to have his favorite snacks (think wings, pizza, Chinese, etc.) delivered to his house, or to where he and his buddies are hanging out— instant Best Girlfriend Ever prize. 

It kills me that a girl a few years younger than me figured this one out, but, I mean— share, share away! I’m certainly going to cop it.

XOXO

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February 27, 2011


(via 50centtweets)
Relationship advice straight from Fiddy.
XOXO

(via 50centtweets)

Relationship advice straight from Fiddy.

XOXO

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March 3, 2011


What You Should Never Say To The Guy You’re Seeing:

"I actually dig UFC. Big men. Small tight shorts. Lots of sweat. It’s a good time."

XOXO

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June 22, 2011


Go With The Flow.

What’s more hip right now than vampires? Tampons, obviously. Let’s talk about vaginas, shall we?

I’ll admit it— I’m a bit of a brand whore, and I’m as loyal as the Labrador Retriever you grew up with when I find a product I like. I’ve worn the same American Eagle jeans since I was in middle school, because they’re the cuts that fit me best. I’ve washed my hair with Garnier Fructis since I was a senior in high school. I only ride in Dansko paddock boots, and Ariat tall boots. I buy Barilla pasta (if it’s good enough for the supermarkets in Italy, it’s good enough for me). I pitched an ungodly fit when my local pharmacy changed my straight-from-the-brand Ortho Tri-Cyclin Lo to the generic birth control alternative, and had it promptly changed back. (Part of that may have been because the generic pills looked like they had been pressed by some enterprising young meth-head in his back-country trailer park, and also the fact that I am NOT willing to risk my fertility on the cheap shit, because babies are HELLA expensive.) And I have always, ALWAYS used Playtex Gentle Glide tampons (fresh scent,) for as long as…well, for as long as I’ve been cursing being born female and fertile.

However, this is not to say that I can’t occasionally be lured away from a specific product by the seductive siren song of another. While I may be very, very loyal and monogamous in my relationships with people, my relationships with products have a tendency to sometimes end up polygamous. Take, for instance, the last time I found myself journeying down the “feminine care” aisle of my local Rite-Aid on a last-minute “Dear god, like the three bears, my bathroom cupboards are bare and Goldilocks (Little Red Riding Hood would possibly be more apt?) has come to town!” mission. There they were, right in front of me— the pink box with the familiar script, the reassuringly large “S”, the vague floral scent wafting out of the box already. But, three boxes to my right, something caught my eye. It was black. It was colorful. It was modern. It was aggressive! It was a box that said, “Hey, cool lady, let’s kick this period’s ass like it’s past 4 AM at Bungalow 8 and you’re on Andy Warhol’s arm!” Someone had obviously done enough market research to pick up on the fact that a black background with bright color accents just pops off the shelf (can’t express to you how many books I have mysteriously ended up owning based on the fact that my brain sees bright pink on a black cover and instantly equates it with the next Great American Novel and NYT best-seller…which never, in fact, ends up happening), because after some hemming and hawing over the comfort of the familiar versus this bright new interloper, the box of regular-weight U by Kotex Click tampons had popped right into my basket. Women will endlessly be attracted to the shiny and new.

After two trials of “Why could I not have been born a Brandon?” use, here’s the list of pros and cons that I’ve compiled for this new product in regards to how they stand up/fill out/carry their (water) weight against my beloved Gentle Glides. As always, every woman (and her flow) is different, so just because I found it a certain way doesn’t mean that you necessarily will, too. Just keep that in mind. Now that we’ve got that across, here are my VERY opinionated views: From an aesthetic point of view, the box and packaging of U have it allllllll over Playtex. The tampon cartridges themselves are much smaller, which is convenient because trying to fit a super-weight Playtex tamp in the pocket of a pair of girl’s jeans is pretty much like trying to shove an atomic missile into hiding inside of a lycra catsuit. You know something is in there. The U’s small cartridge, ever so tiny enough to fit a handful in my summer clutch, also expands to click into place (hence the name, Kotex Click) rather neatly. I got the first box of U’s when they offered blue, green, orange and yellow colors instead of the rather sickly purple they replaced the blues with, but hey. Still, they have much more personality than Gentle Glides. And I always thought a woman’s tampons told you a lot about her personality.

The thinner plastic cartridge (I never understood why ANYONE, including my mother, would have ever used the cardboard cartridges; I mean, I get that they’re more environmentally friendly, blah blah blah go hug a tree, but the sensation of trying to use one is like trying to insert the corner of the box of Annie’s Organic Mac & Cheese you just ate for lunch into your down-undah. NO THANK YOU!) also equates to an interesting other plus for Kotex— you know that phenomenon that happens as you get towards the end of your Time of Bleed when your vagina just kind of shuts down like a government building under attack and stops accepting any foreign bodies into it and is all, “PENIS OR BUST!” and for the life of you, you cannot plead, cajole, coerce, or force another tampon comfortably in there to save your life, or your new pair of underwear? Well, with the very slim plastic cartridge body, the U just kind of…slides by your vaj’s defenses unnoticed, like Bond. No struggle, no teeth-gritting, and no more crying and pleading while in a public bathroom stall that distracts other people around you. Solid.

However, the U does fall short of my beloved Gentle Glides in a few places: Namely, the fact that the regular-weight U’s are about half the size and absorbency of the regular-weight Gentle Glides. They don’t expand as well to fit and leak-proof your lady-bits quite as well as Gentle Glide’s cotton protection does, either, probably due to the fact that Gentle Glide’s cotton tamps are roughly the same softness and fluffiness that newborn baby kittens are, while U’s tamps are made of something that feels suspiciously like yesterday’s newspaper that’s been lining your kid sister’s hamster cage overnight. It’s kind of stiff, kind of hard, and has this weird…well, this weird almost shell to the cotton, which acts as kind of like a primary defense system that your bodily fluid have to breach before the damn tamp will begin to absorb. Not, generally, the best thing that one looks for in a tampon.

All in all, this one’s kind of a wash. While I continue to buy my Gentle Glides for their vastly superior protection, I’ve also started making sure that I always have a small box of the regular-weight U’s kicking around for either those really light days when my vagina decides that it’s on maximum security lockdown, or for those special occasion events like summer weddings, outings on boats, or barbecues when I need either my small clutch instead of a large purse, or don’t want to look like I’m smuggling Cuban cigars back into the country in my denim short’s pocket. So, U by Kotex Click— worth the fancy-shamancy hip packaging, but not worth it to entrust any new pairs of underwear to provided that like Victoria, you should want to keep your little monthly visitor a secret.

XOXO

—-

- From SATCG.

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June 29, 2011


Sometimes I Need A Little Bit Of Hand-Holding

Ok, here we go— yet again another chance for me to prove to you how painfully yet wonderfully new everything about a serious, cohabitating relationship is to me: Mealtimes. How in the name of god do you coordinate two very different people’s shared meals together in the home?

Do you cook; does he cook; do you eat separately; who plans the meals, etc? While we grocery shop together, and our Top 5 Favorite Restaurants are the same, I'm just not used to someone coming home and asking, “What should we do for dinner?” My general response to this question thus far through the years to family members, roommates, friends, and guys has been something along the lines of, 'uhhhhh…..eat?’ Adding to the tricky little question, he’s a vegetarian, and very health- and consumer-conscious, while I have been known to consider eating a McDouble, fries, and small soda off the Dollar Menu at McDonald’s a STEAL, and have a bad habit of grazing through whatever is quick and easy in the cabinets of the kitchen instead of making a proper meal, so that when he gets home at 7 and is starved, I’m not hungry until 9.

While we always end up figuring SOMETHING out, it just takes a little longer than I’d (impatiently as always,) like it to. So far, Dominoes has saved our stomachs more than a few times, and I recently had the bright idea of going through our amassed cookbooks together to dog-ear recipes that we’d both like to try to create a bank of dinner ideas, but after that, I’m all tapped out!

So this is the part where I ask Tumblr, especially my older, wiser, and less relationship-challenged readers, to please leave me any tips, hints, or tricks that you’ve found while cohabitating and coexisting with a member of the opposite sex. Grazie mille!

XOXO

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June 30, 2011


Ok, so, I stole this DIY from the latest issue of ELLE— they used a raincoat (or anorak, if you want to get really British,) but I found this slightly glitzy sweaterdress for $7 yesterday at Second Time Around in Burlington (gotta love thrifting!) and thought it’d be PERFECT. This cold-shoulder looks is so trendy right now, and is a great way to show a little unexpected skin. Here’s how to do it:
Step 1— Find a longsleeved shirt, dress, or jacket that you don’t mind cutting up and making more fabulous.
Step 2— Try it on, and decide where/how big you want to make your cut-outs. A good rule of thumb (shoulder?) is that your shoulder should be easily exposed, and there’s enough “bag” to the sleeve that it drapes and hangs gracefully.
Step 3— After making sure the sleeve is completely lined up one side on top of the other— just match your seams— and after carefully marking your cut lines, use a pair of sharp scissors to cut a half-moon out of the top of your sleeves by the shoulder. One half-moon should translate into a perfectly round, symmetrical hole, if you do it right. (For an easy way to cheat, I laid my first cut sleeve over my second un-cut one, and used it as a guideline to make a mirror image hole the same size. It worked well.)
Step 4— Try it on, and alter further to fit your desires. If you plan ahead and leave some extra fabric to hem it, you can if you want so that you aren’t left with any sharp or uneven edges, but I personally like the way that cut fabric rolls up back into itself. Ta-da! Enjoy your new (old) very fashion-forward look!
XOXO

Ok, so, I stole this DIY from the latest issue of ELLE— they used a raincoat (or anorak, if you want to get really British,) but I found this slightly glitzy sweaterdress for $7 yesterday at Second Time Around in Burlington (gotta love thrifting!) and thought it’d be PERFECT. This cold-shoulder looks is so trendy right now, and is a great way to show a little unexpected skin. Here’s how to do it:

Step 1— Find a longsleeved shirt, dress, or jacket that you don’t mind cutting up and making more fabulous.

Step 2— Try it on, and decide where/how big you want to make your cut-outs. A good rule of thumb (shoulder?) is that your shoulder should be easily exposed, and there’s enough “bag” to the sleeve that it drapes and hangs gracefully.

Step 3— After making sure the sleeve is completely lined up one side on top of the other— just match your seams— and after carefully marking your cut lines, use a pair of sharp scissors to cut a half-moon out of the top of your sleeves by the shoulder. One half-moon should translate into a perfectly round, symmetrical hole, if you do it right. (For an easy way to cheat, I laid my first cut sleeve over my second un-cut one, and used it as a guideline to make a mirror image hole the same size. It worked well.)

Step 4— Try it on, and alter further to fit your desires. If you plan ahead and leave some extra fabric to hem it, you can if you want so that you aren’t left with any sharp or uneven edges, but I personally like the way that cut fabric rolls up back into itself. Ta-da! Enjoy your new (old) very fashion-forward look!

XOXO

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July 15, 2011


Also…

Electronics stores: Great places to scam free internet access from because my phone is such a complete piece of shit it’s web browser won’t load Tumblr. 

Remind me about this neat little loophole next time I have to wait 15,347,289 years for Comcast to come and install internet someplace.

XOXO

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August 13, 2011


Don’t have a baking sheet? Use a skillet.

The things that I manage to do in the kitchen amaze me.

XOXO

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August 21, 2011


Cornbread to DIE for.

My great-grandmama was right— the trick is using a skillet, and LOTS and lots of butter to grease it.

Here’s to the better half of me being half-Southern.

XOXO

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October 12, 2011


I’m Just Giving The Dog A Bone: The Men’s Guide To Flirting

So you think you can flirt, huh? I have news for you, buddy— you can always improve on that game, and just like how you begged until your parents sent you to basketball camp in middle school so that you could improve that 3-point shot of yours, I’m here by popular demand to tell you where you’re slacking on the job while trying to pick up chicks. So, here it is, 5 quick, easy tips for sneakily getting on the better, phone-number-giving side of the fairer sex. Use them for good, my boys, not evil. After all— Gandalf is watching.

- Be Aggressive, B.E AGGRESSIVE:

This is the cautionary tale of one would-be suitor gone horrible wrong:

Sometimes, being aggressive is a good thing, like in rugby and fencing and chess and discount sales in Filene’s Basement. But sometimes, it’s not. Persistence isn’t always the best tactic. One over-enthusiastic gent tracked me down on Facebook— and Twitter. He tried friending me— 3 times in 2 days when I didn’t accept fast enough for his liking. He messaged me. He poked me. It was the electronic equivalent of a grade-school kid standing on his blue plastic chair, waving his arms over his head, screaming, “Pick me! Pick me! Pick me!” I still haven’t accepted his request. Why? Because there’s aggressive, and then there’s AGGRESSIVE. And…desperation has never been sexy. Doesn’t matter if you’re XY or XX— it’s a big NO, and the reek of it permeates everything you do. We will know when you’re desperate. Your friends, parents, coworkers, classmates, postal worker, hair dresser, and the entirety of Facebook will know when you are desperate. It shows. So get a leash on that beast. Down, boy.

- “E” Is For Effort. Also, Egotistical Eunuchs End Up Eating Alone:

I’ve had guys tell me, “Come down to see me when you’re on your break.” This is bad. If you’re the one who wants to see me, then you can come to me. A girl with options never goes out of her way for a man; she’ll let him come to her, if he wants to. Nothing tells a girl faster if a guy is really serious about her or not by how much effort he puts into seeing her. And by this age, we girls should have stopped being delusional and making excuses for lazy asses and should know how much effort shown constitutes a viable man and a viable relationship. I know. If it isn’t calling, isn’t visiting, isn’t writing, and isn’t planning, it ain’t yo’ boyfran, gurrrrrrl. And kind sirs, if you are not actively walking your ass over to see her, she’s going to find someone else who WILL, because she ain’t that desperate yet for yo’ lazy ass. Again, desperation is never sexy.

- You’re QUALITY, Not QUANTITY: 

Always remember: A little goes a long way, if your “little”— time, effort, energy, affection, money, passion— is quality. I’ve always preferred my men a little aloof— it helps keep the magic going. My last S.O waited until Date #5 to finally kiss me; the entirety of dates 1-4 I was constantly wondering what was going on, and the anticipation made me sparkle even more than the average girl trying to look good on a date does because I kept working for it. But the long-awaited kiss was so good, it was worth the wait. And you know what? All that time spent in good, intelligent conversation, learning each other’s likes and dislikes, food and movie preferences before swapping spit made us both sure that we liked the other— more than just a first date could have foreseen. They were quality dates. It was a quality first kiss. We were sure that the other was a quality person. Much better than a really awkward make-out session straddling the cup-holders in his car’s front seat post first-date beers would have been. A win all-around.

- How To Scabbard Your Sword— What Women Want:

Sorry, this isn’t about sex. I just thought that play on words would grab your attention for what will probably be for most of you the hardest concept to grasp. (Unlike grasping other things.) This is about what all women want. This is the secret that lands the nerdy guys the perfect 10s. This is the Rosetta Stone for understanding women. Cracking this is like cracking a Rubix Cube. So I don’t want to have to sit here and waits through eons of evolution for you guys to finally get it. Which is why I’m just going to come right out and say it to you:

Women just want to be saved. Or, at the very least, we want a partner in crime.

You know how in Million Dollar Baby, Hillary Swank kicked major ass? It was because Clint Eastwood was there in her corner, and he had her back. All women want a knight…white, black, red, or purple, it doesn’t matter to us. What matters is that we all want a champion— someone who is willing to go forth and do battle for us, whether it’s getting us that extra dollar off our soft pretzel at the mall that the salesgirl somehow forgot to credit us, or sticking up to other people to defend us. Because we’re worth it. As Frances Hodgson Burnett wrote, every girl is a princess, whether she looks like it or acts like it or not. If I do something, if I say something, you best believe I do it with 110% conviction, and all I want— and what I deserve— is to have someone there who will stand next to me and uphold those words and those actions.

This is where a guy riding up on his high horse comes in. I don’t need to be questioned anymore. I shouldn’t have to explain myself. What I want, what I need— what all women need— is someone as strong and courageous and faithful as I am to stand next to me and be there for me to lean on when I’m too tired to lead the charge, and have them stand up to the job. So be a stand-up guy. If you say something, follow through. Never make any promises you can’t keep; don’t lie. If you know something wrong is happening, stop it. If you see something unfair, call people on it. In return, I promise that any woman worth that title and her salt will be doing the same for you, because if you have my back, and I have yours, nothing in life will ever be able to sneak up on us and scare the crap out of us. THAT is what women find most sexy of all— reliability, safety, and partnership.

- Getting The Big N.O, or, Failure For Champions:

Then again, you could do everything right and still be turned down. It’s a woman’s prerogative to be fickle. Maybe she’s just gotten out of a bad relationship, or isn’t over her ex yet. Maybe she’s interested in someone else and doesn’t want to lead you on and waste your time. Maybe you’re just not her “type”…you can’t help that, but chances are you definitely will be someone else’s. Or maybe she’s just enjoying being single right now, and doesn’t want to think about getting involved with men or dating. But don’t let this dissuade you from trying again with a different girl— practice makes perfect, after all. Take a page from the Casanova-like diaries of the men I met while I was in Italy— with all the “ciao, bella”-ing that was going on, and all the flat-out rejections from those “bella”s, I thought it was a wonder any Italians ever managed to procreate. But as my Food and Wine professor told his class of 18 American girls, “If you say it enough times, someone is bound to say ‘ciao’ back.” That’s how he landed his American wife while she was studying abroad. See? It works. If Giancarlo could do it, I have faith that you can, too. Now, get out there, and be someone’s knight in shining armor. Or, at least, take you car through the car wash and go pay for the cute lady in front of you’s espresso at the coffee shop tomorrow morning.

Buona fortuna!

XOXO

—-

- From SATCG.

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November 1, 2011


Initiative and Confidence: The Two Things Most Girls Lack.

Slow days at work are good for one thing and one thing only: People-watching. It’s always been one of my favorite activities, but, when Fate deems it worthy to throw some eye-candy my way on a slow afternoon, I really, really love it. 

I was slumped at the repair desk this afternoon, staring out into the mall in a zombie-like trance, when a backwards black baseball cap, a fair amount of stubble, and a Northface jacket caught my attention. He looked a lot like my ex-ex, and, as long as we’re being candid, I’ll let slip that I had a rather fascinating dream about him (or someone who looked like him,) last night, so I had a fairly large soft-spot already built into me when I spotted him. So I checked the guy out, and he happened to turn right before the store pillar and see me, as well. When he got to the next door, he was still looking. So was I.

Now, considering the fact that I remember meticulously plotting and putting the moves on my first elementary school crush at the tender age of 5, and that I haven’t stopped flirting for more than a single, solitary hour since, let’s just skate over the long story and put it bluntly that I’m very, very good at what I do, and how I do it. Why? The two things most girls seem to miss out on while going through the “Boys don’t have cooties!” revelation— initiative, and confidence. So, knowing the mall entrances and having a good idea that my Doppelganger Cutie would be heading back my way at some point, I got up, adjusted my tits (yes, we girls actually do actively do that— better than the medieval equivalent of “girding our loins,”), and went to go hang out on the cases in front of the store.

Here’s Tip #1: I actually got up, and made myself more accessible, happily. No man has ever fallen straight through the ceiling and into your sweatpant-clad lap while you watched Jersey Shore re-runs on MTV and ate straight out of a pint of Chubby Hubby, amirite? And, if a dude has, go see your landlord, because you have got bigger problems than your love-life, girlfraaaaaand.

Sure enough, another 10 minutes roll around, and who comes strolling back. Right. Onto Tip #2: I looked him dead in the eye, and smiled. He smiled back. I didn’t break eye contact. We kept looking at each other. His grin got wider, as did mine. I felt myself start to blush. And right then, he pursed his fine little lips, and blew me a kiss.

With that, I finally looked away; he kept walking. If I had wanted to do more than just ogle him, I would have kept eye contact after his air-kiss, and he could have come over to talk to me. But, like I told my AM, it’s really the little things that make girls like me the happiest. Him blowing me a kiss made my afternoon and my workday more worth it than it would have been to set up and go on a date with him in which I would have inevitably realized with a sinking feeling that I’ve already dated this guy— or one like him— before. So, instead, this Single Girl kept her cool and let it lie with that innocent, sweet little hint of a kiss, and that was all that I wanted, and all that I needed. You, too, could be getting what you want and what you need, and all it takes is a little initiative, and a boatload of confidence.

Bold Moves October, rolling into Still Being Bold November.

XOXO

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November 8, 2011


My Day Off

Consisted of meeting for Ladies Who Lun-…Drink…at 2 PM and consuming a steak, molten chocolate lava cake, and two absolutely DIVINE margaritas.

I then went shopping, and was momentarily transported back to Italy when the young male cashier at Petco didn’t charge me for my two cat collars or ID tag, and only for the least expensive items— treats, a catnip mouse, and a mint flossing toy (yes, Nicco is spoiled rotten). My total came to HALF of what it should have been. I felt better about life than I have for DAYS.

…It’s not that I think that I’m entitled to free shit. Quite on the contrary, I know I’m not, and I’m not the type to take hand-outs. It’s just that, when someone does something like that for you— because you smiled at them, made conversation, asked them how their day was, didn’t just treat them like another cashier or salesperson, and yes, are pretty— it really just makes you feel good, you know? In Italy, they do it because I’m foreign and blonde and always tried speaking to them in their language, first. It was a courtesy thing. Here, it almost never happens, so when it does, it makes it that much sweeter.

And such a sweet, sweet life it is.

XOXO 

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November 26, 2011


In the future, I need to remember that taking a Vicodin and then going out is not a condusive way to have a wild and crazy Friday night. Instead, it’s a great way to end up at Dominos ordering a small feast fit for a family of 6.

Yeah, I’m 22 and single.

XOXO

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December 5, 2011


A Great Stocking-Stuffer Gift Idea For Girls:

Perfume samples. 

Seriously, go raid Macy’s for like, 5-10 perfume samples. They make the best gifts because most girls, like me, like to switch up their scents for different occasions, and owning full-sized bottles of most perfumes is way too expensive. Also, the tiny little sample bottles fit perfectly into a clutch for re-spritzing on a night out.

I live to serve you guys.

XOXO

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December 7, 2011


As we all probably know by now, I’m a writer by talent and by trade. However, since graduating, the extent of my writing has been…well, you’ve been reading it. It’s pretty pitiful. I guess after 4+ years of being told to write, write, write, I got burned out and needed to take a little hiatus.
However, I pulled an old project out of the bin after my friend Caiti asked me over a girl’s dinner-date the other week if I’d been writing anything as of late. “I remember you always used to be writing NOVELS in high school. Did you ever finish one?”
No. I started over a dozen. I wrote THOUSANDS of pages. But did I finish one? No. Never.
So I came home, and, for fun more than anything, pulled out an old project. I’ve been messing around a bit with it lately, because as an essayist and short story writer, the idea of a complex and complete novel is daunting to me. However, the other night, right before I fell asleep, I was wondering about the complexity of plotlines that famous authors are able to create— worlds within chapters within worlds within books. Something new is always happening, and yet, there’s always that little line that connects it to the rest of the book. It was, I realized, very much like a clothesline, but instead of hanging clothes from the clothes (or plot) line, you hang chapters. Chapters, that can be like individual short stories. Short stories, I can do. They’ve just all got to connect.
Wham. That 100K college education, at work. Here’s my working diagram for those of you out there who, like me, are struggling with the whole “completion and how do I even begin to attempt it?” thing.
XOXO

As we all probably know by now, I’m a writer by talent and by trade. However, since graduating, the extent of my writing has been…well, you’ve been reading it. It’s pretty pitiful. I guess after 4+ years of being told to write, write, write, I got burned out and needed to take a little hiatus.

However, I pulled an old project out of the bin after my friend Caiti asked me over a girl’s dinner-date the other week if I’d been writing anything as of late. “I remember you always used to be writing NOVELS in high school. Did you ever finish one?”

No. I started over a dozen. I wrote THOUSANDS of pages. But did I finish one? No. Never.

So I came home, and, for fun more than anything, pulled out an old project. I’ve been messing around a bit with it lately, because as an essayist and short story writer, the idea of a complex and complete novel is daunting to me. However, the other night, right before I fell asleep, I was wondering about the complexity of plotlines that famous authors are able to create— worlds within chapters within worlds within books. Something new is always happening, and yet, there’s always that little line that connects it to the rest of the book. It was, I realized, very much like a clothesline, but instead of hanging clothes from the clothes (or plot) line, you hang chapters. Chapters, that can be like individual short stories. Short stories, I can do. They’ve just all got to connect.

Wham. That 100K college education, at work. Here’s my working diagram for those of you out there who, like me, are struggling with the whole “completion and how do I even begin to attempt it?” thing.

XOXO

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