The first critiques we receive always stay with us the longest and hold disproportionate position in our imaginations. So it is for me and scientific plausibility. As a child, writing silly, childish stories, I was drawn to science fiction first. I wanted to write about robots and spaceships and aliens. Read more…
Procrastitron is an Autobot… we think? She’s never bothered to paint her allegiance logo. But she hangs out with the Autobots. Probably because, you know, the Decepticons would kick her out for not doing stuff. Procrastitron is not badly-drawn! Procrastitron is thematic in her simplicity. By the way, those colored Read more…
When I was a little girl, I asked my mother, “Am I pretty?” I clearly remember her recoil, her curled lip as she snarled, “Self-pity is disgusting!” I don’t remember what prompted the question, maybe my older sister telling me I was ugly. “You have to have blonde hair to Read more…
I use a push-powered mower because I really love the environment. It’s also what the first lawnmower I remember was and nostalgia is a sad, powerful force. Oh, and I’m cheap. I hate spending money on things I don’t enjoy and I don’t enjoy putting gas in the lawn mower. But Read more…
So, I wrote this story with a black, inner-city protagonist. I based her on a friend of mine and like that friend she is compassionate and witty and willing to do anything for the people under her care. In an early scene in the story, she describes a boy “as Read more…
I hate shaving my armpits. They’re concave, for one thing. The skin is sensitive and the razor burn is real. So there I was, in the shower, with razor-burned pits, contemplating shaving them again. “Does anyone even care?” I thought. That was back in March. I chose not to shave, Read more…
… and why that makes me happy. A while back, I wrote a post about fame. How it’s not a useful goal, because to be famous requires first that you are, well, famous. It’s a game of exponentials, where the truly famous are famous for BEING famous. I used Neil Read more…