First Book Purchases of 2015 with a bonus sleeping cat



Z for Zachariah by Robert C. O’Brien
Through the scary/amazing power of Twitter and the Bookternet. From what I heard about the book it’s everything I’ve been looking for in a genre book; Strong female protagonist surviving well on her own in a post-apocalyptic world.

Rot & Ruin (book 1) by Jonathan Maberry
Another Post-Apocalyptic story. Zombies and teens surviving seems pretty standard but where many other books make that the entire plot of the story; for this book it’s only the starting point. The world of this book has already adapted to living with a Zombie menace. It’s a tale about growing up in a world with a constant zombie presence and —worst joining the family business as Zombie-exterminators. I intend to write a follow-up on the story after I get around to reading it.

The House Of The Scorpion by Nancy Farmer
My last purchase was a book that I had already read previously as a child a little more than a decade ago. It was called The House of The Scorpion by Nancy Farmer. I went to school down here in Eastern North Carolina as a child for about a year and a half. During that time I joined the Battle of The Books; a reading competition. House of The Scorpion was on the book lists and though the finer details have gotten hazy I remember it being a fascinating reads, one of those books whose world I slipped under the surface-warm and comfortable like floating under water in a hot bath. Featuring cloning, body farming and intrigue it was engaging and smart while moody and terrifying. I’m anxious to re-read a book that had kept me up for days reading to the very end.

All of my purchases were made at the local Books-A-Million, a smaller scale chain bookstore. Its nice like most bookstores but the downside of moving to a small town is that most of the stores are too far to walk. The nearest indie bookstore is a decent car ride.


2014 Wrap-Up, New Moves and Best ofs


, ,

I know that I probably should have posted this the first week of January when I wrote it but we only just now managed to get internet for the house yesterday, which is the first time in a decade that my grandparents ever had wifi in their house so a little leeway is in order.

Ah 2014.

Nationally probably not a year to be remembered fondly but some good things came about socially especially in the book world. Specifically the We Need Diverse Books campaign that–if trends are to be believed— are causing the publishing world to take extra care in insuring that the voices on the shelves are come from more than one perspective. From various authors blogs the movement certainly had a resonance in the type of characters they set out to portray.

Personally, 2014 was the year I started back to reading, in fact it was the year I purchased more books than probably prudent but I surely won’t need to visit the library again anytime soon. Emphasis on need not want because my new local library which I was familiar with from previous visits is simply amazing.

2014 was the year I began being social with my wonderful coworkers only for me to unfortunately have to leave them due to my move. I packed up and left my home state of New York in December for a small town in eastern North Carolina with my grandparents where I keep myself useful with keeping house, wrangling sneaky kitties, feeding hungry puppies, cooking and writing. I’ve finally set out a posting schedule for this blog so I can be a bit more productive than before but I won’t cement it until a few months in so if I fail spectacularly at my deadline you all won’t know just how bad. I plan to be more productive writing wise this year before applying to schools in Oregon next year. I don’t want to put it off for too long but I also don’t want to make two big transitions back to back.

2014 was the year of internet awesomeness (and repulsive nastiness). I finally managed to start tweeting from my Twitter account after having it for almost a year and it has, to say the least, been interesting. It suffices to say that the internet is a weird place. I still haven’t managed to learn how to properly make my blog settings work.

My songs of 2014 had been Florence & The Machine’s “Cosmic Love” followed by “Shake It Out” the music seemed to fit in with alot of the turmoil and issues I dealt with for 2014. “Its hard to dance with a devil on your back so shake it out” Described my year far too close for comfort. I’d like to think that I shook it off and this move and everything I’ve been working for will pay off though the setback of an already missed deadline was disheartening. The noise of it blowing by was almost deafening but I recalculated and adjusted what I need to do.

So while 2014’s songs were “Cosmic Love” and “Shake It Out”; 2015 came into the world with the sounds of far off neighbors welcoming in the new year with pistols and fireworks. I hope 2015 doesn’t explode but if it does I hope it’s blooming into something amazing and brilliant and that it settles calm and quiet because my spirit animal must be a particularly twitchy kitty and I’d need calm seas to get my bearings.

When 2015 came in so bright and loud all I could think of is a need for calm, balance and productivity which is why my song for 2015 is Andrew Bird’s “Anonanimal” because I sort of want a mellow ambient year, one thats productive and hopefully happy-making. The video is a brillant example of that because of the amount of detail that went into it, its exactly how I feel about stop motion: productive, hardwork, beautifully expressive and flowing. It makes me want to work hard to make something beautiful so that maybe someone will appreciate it.


2014’s final book total: 18

Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland by Lewis Carroll, Bantam Edition

Companions of the Night by Vivian Vande Velde

Animal Farm by George Orwell

Homeless Bird by Gloria Whelan

Instead of Three Wishes by Megan Whalen Turner

Stories for Nightime and Some for The Day by Ben Loory

Bird by Bird by Anne Lamott

The Dust of 100 Dogs by A S King

Please Ignore Vera Dietz by A S King

A Monster Calls by Patrick Ness

On Writing by Stephen King

The Shining Girls by Lauren Beukes

DAR Comic by Erika Moen

The Less Than Epic Adventures of TJ and Amal by E K Weaver

Halloween ABC by Eve Merriam and Lane Smith

This book year seemed to be a balanced mix of new and old books but all wonderful.

Thoughts On The Nature Of The Internet OR How No One Knows You’re A Dog


, ,

Hello All!

I have been either unbelievably exhausted from work (retail +Holidays =Mayhem), or wallowing in a complete lack of motivation/personal issues). So, in an effort to get in the habit of adding more blog posts a week I bring you a post about something that’s been bothering me for awhile now.

People on the Internet

We all know or learn very quickly not to read the comment section on a video or post that you like as you’ll soon be introduced to a plethora of viciousness and profanity and sheer degradation that would leave you queasy and ready to quick to abandon the cyber highway forever. We all know that there are a lot of people out there with a lot of different opinions and psyches , some of them quite terrible. We know about them, we might even live with them but this post isn’t about the level of craziness we are subjected to on the internet, its about how we, I specifically, react to them . So it’s a bit more about me than anything.

I had to learn to let it go, to not take it personally. I think I’ve managed it alright because just like no one knows you’re a dog on the internet, no one also know whether you’re sincere or speaking in jest. The internet is basically a place for a small group of friends and an even larger group of strangers to be in constant contact with each other. They talk , they mingle, they get into loud arguments and throw holiday eggnog at each other.

The internet is basically a virtual office party.

An unsupervised and never ending office party. Where Creepy Greg from accounting who likes to stand too close or hovers by the ladies room can have an opinion and find fellow people who thinks Greg is the greatest person ever. While Sweet Susan from marketing who always brings in sweets for everyone can be screamed at, called vile names and even threatened with bodily injury.

The thing about the internet is that you’ll never know if you’re talking to Creepy Greg or Sweet Sue or if the person you’re talking to will start out as Sweet Sue and turn into Creepy Greg. Or maybe Sweet Sue has been a liar all along and keeps Michelle from Marketing, who quit mysteriously weeks ago, taped upside down in her cellar and maybe you shouldn’t eat the sweets she’s been bringing in.

The point is you get to meet lots of people.

Those people will have opinions that maybe you don’t agree with or maybe you do.
You might get to talk to your hero author online and he or she will be as amazing and engaging as their books.

Or maybe someone will keep spamming you with notifications for the number one Male Enhancement drug on the market. Or pressuring you to buy their book that you don’t want to read.

As a person suffering from social anxiety the thought of contacting someone online is almost as nerve wracking as walking up to someone to say hi. Maybe the outcome will be great or maybe you will be left with a huge knot in your stomach with cheeks burning in humiliation.

The thing about the internet is that most people can’t see your face if you don’t want them to and the facial and vocal cues that you get as to a person’s character or personality or whether they’re joking or not is not there for you to pick up on.

Everyone operates at a disadvantage on the internet. If I send a message on twitter to someone asking a question or sending a joke, they have no way of knowing if I’m legitimately a good person & looking to converse with them nicely or if I am in fact setting them up for a malicious prank. They don’t know you’re a dog or a Troll or a Saint when you’re on the internet. In good prudence, most people will view you and your motives with suspicion if you didn’t have a prior relationship to them.

Let it go, they didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.

In the, let’s say, 5 months I’ve been actively tweeting on Twitter I’ve had to tell myself that twelve times. I didn’t actually believe it until today. But I’m feeling optimistic and I quite honestly believe that the person who spurred this blog post didn’t mean to hurt my feelings, in fact they probably haven’t even thought about it after the initial contact. So where would that leave me besides with hurt feelings and any option of contact would only make the situation worse.

So I tell myself, and anyone who needs to hear it with me, No one knows that you’re a Dog on the internet.

No one knows you’re not a Troll

Or a Saint.

Or just some kid innocently asking a question that could be interpreted the wrong way.

So let it go.
LET IT GOOOOOOOooooooo. Cold never bothered me anyway….
Sorry. I have siblings and Frozen is free on Demand. My life exists in children’s musicals on repeat. Help!

I say this because it does no good crying over what someone said on the internet that hurt your feeling but that they aren’t losing any sleep over. They might not even have known that they hurt you.

This also goes to rage on the internet. I personally don’t think its helpful to rage at people on the internet or to get into virtual fisticuffs. If you’re on twitter, just mute or block them. Facebook , set your profile to private. Tumblr, Ello, Instagram etc? I don’t know, don’t have them but just do they’re versions of mute/block. I’ve had people yell at me already on the internet and it’s just not worth the headache of engaging. No one ever looks good in a fight.

I will remain somewhat active on Twitter, but I endeavor to remember that it is a public space, a public street. What’s said there isn’t meant to or worth my getting into a tizzy over.

This blog however is my apartment, my castle, my home. And I will protect it and the people who visit it from the negativity of the internet. My mystical pet dragon will not be afraid to drop jaw and burn the negative out of the comments. I’m all for differing opinions but not threats or viciousness.

So Play Nice and Remember
“Never Tickle A Sleeping Dragon”

I’ll be posting again sometime during the week. I haven’t decided whether I’m going to gush about a new book or write another thinkpost. Possibly both.

Bye then for now!

Distractions, Distractions, Distractions…..



Hello All!

Once again, I’ve been absolutely dreadful when it comes to posting. But it’s a new month which will bring new -hopefully good- things. Work has been going well, though my overnight job is slogging and makes me completely drained by the next morning where the whole cycle starts over again.

In other news I’ve made decent progress with my draft though I am still running behind on my daily quotas to the point that I think I might just go by scene instead of word count. Even as I type I have a full chapter outline waiting patiently scrawled in my notepad. It will have to wait until I come back from work tonight. I have a very active imagination, which is good for the line of work I’m pursuing, but I am an admitted procrastinator which isn’t so good for a line of work that consists of the dreaded deadlines. *shudders. I have tons of ideals swirling around, that I’ve been scrabbling to write down on paper before I forget. Some of them I know I would like to turn into drafts others I’d probably manipulate into short stories or fanfiction. So at least when I finish this one, hopefully before my 2 month deadline is up, I’ll be able to start on the next one which simply won’t leave me alone. It’s quite distracting to try and stay within the world of one novel but then another ones plot keeps coming together so well that I’m tempted to stop one and “chase the shiny”. Going through my Twitter feed, I’ve found that I’m not the only one and from various advise I’ve decided it would be a very bad move to chase after the new story before finishing the old one. It gives you the bad habit of always starting thing without finishing.

I know I certainly have enough bad habits.

I’ve found that I work better with background noise, something quiet enough that it isn’t distracting but loud enough to keep other noises at bay. It helps me zero in on a story and stay there. Then there are the playlists that help me with a particular scene. Currently I am obsessed with Andrew Bird’s “Anonanimal”

And of course I have a weakness for stop-motion animation. It’s very happy making.

In Which I talk about Books ,The need for Strong Mythologies & the Beauty of Fandom


, , , , , , , ,

In my last post I chattered on about my love of Circa Survive and friendly people…or something like that.

What I neglected to talk about was the book I devoured half-way through the bus ride to Syracuse: ‘A Monster Calls‘ By Patrick Ness. The book was based on an idea by the late Siobhan Dowd whose work I haven’t yet had the pleasure of reading, which will be corrected soon. Through out the book the wonderfully creepy and expressive art of Jim Kay haunts the pages.

As soon as I opened the book, it grabbed me and wouldn’t let go. I was caught as soon as I read the first sentence:

“The Monster showed up just after midnight. As they do.”

a-monster-calls 2

So much yes in one opening line and it just snowballed from there. I’ve always loved macabre dark things (if done right and oh is it done right here). I’ve always found a beauty in it and this book epitomizes all of that. It’s dark, wonderfully creepy, beautifully written & illustrated and heartbreakingly moving.

This was the first Patrick Ness book I have read but like Siobhan Dowd I intend to correct the oversight. Jim Kay, who’s lovely inky art work I fell in love with, is now going to be working with Bloomsbury to Illustrate all of the Harry Potter books. The same books that I and probably most of my generation loved to bits and pieces. I’ve already started to save up to buy the project when it’s completed, which could be YEARS from now (ugh the suspense).

I’ll talk much more in depth about Harry Potter and one fangirl’s theories/disagreements at a later date.

‘A Monster Calls’ was truly an enchanting read. It had been on my To Be Read Pile for a couple of months and I had finally gotten around to tackling it after I boarded the bus to Syracuse. I finished it in two hours and towards the end had to fight the urge to tear up in the middle of a crowded bus.

It’s been awhile since I read a book I enjoyed so much that I honestly felt sad when it was over and was put quite possibly into some sort of dejected stage of book mourning. I loved how the book was broken up into stories within a story. I tend to favour that kind of writing because it seems to pile on more mythology and backstory into what generally was a straight timeline.

I started outlining my first draft of my novel towards the end of my 19th year and completed the outline around February of this year. The outline, or draft to be, follows a similar structure of having stories within the ‘main story’ to enhance the tale being told. I think a lot of truly effective stories are effective because they have far reaching and intricate mythologies or backstory.

My love for a good interwoven tale is the reason I squealed like my teenaged self when I first heard the premise of Scott Westerfeld’sAfterworlds‘. The daunting height of my TBR pile kept me from instantly pre-ordering it, that and well bills, student loan payments and my attempts at being a responsible adult and budgeting.

Which sucks because….books.

Books with their own stories are powerful because, to me, it creates more lands and forests and oceans for the reader to get lost in. To be found in. To have their own adventures inside their heads and on the page.

I will say this now. I am a huge proponent of FanFiction & FanArt. I would be nothing if not for it. A book with a base, with a mythology strong enough for people to make their own mythologies within it are effective books. ‘Harry Potter’, which was the second fandom I joined when I finally found out that those “what if” stories I made up in my head actually had a whole vast community that would appreciate them, at the last count on alone had 688K worth of works. Six hundred and Eighty-Eight THOUSAND stories. On one website alone certain fan-authors have written what equates to the entire series written eight times over in overall wordcount, by themselves. That is amazing to me.

That is Beautiful.

I can only hope that one day my stories can inspire people to write like that.

But that is what I mean about the importance of far reaching mythologies. Harry Potter has a mythology so vast and intricate that fans needed to create an to keep track.

The following are all prime examples of series with a far reaching mythology, and of course this is hardly a teardrop in an ocean of equally complex stories.

The Demonata Series by Darren Shan
The Artemis Fowl Series by Eoin Colfer
The Lord of the Rings by J.R.R.Tolkien
*The Vampire Chronicles by Anne Rice

*Which we’re not allowed to write fanfiction for, which we totally want to. (Still love you though Mrs.Rice)

The background, The Mythology, The story is strong. The love of the fans is awe inspiring and that is the best an author can hope for.

To write a story you could be proud of and that fans will love enough to be inspired to new levels of crazy, like making an entire musical based off your work.

I suppose what I’m trying to say out of this whole rambling post is that

• I’m writing again.
• Patrick Ness and Jim Kay are made of Awesome
• If you want a good book pay heed to the mythology & world building of your story.
• J.K Rowling will forever hold a place in my fangirliest of hearts.
• Fans are Amazing. Write something someone can be proud to go completely crazy for.
• Books and the ideas they inspire keep the world interesting

Of Fractured & Neglectful Posts and Surprise Mosh Pits


, , , , , ,

I’ve been a bit neglectful over the past few days as far as blog posting is concerned. I’m trying to figure out a workable posting schedule that limits big gaps but isn’t draining for me. I’ve also begun working on building a backlog of fiction/poetry work to prepare for a weekly “special” post within the next week or so.

In other news I finally have a full weekend off and after preparing for months I’m going to Upstate New York to Syracuse to see ‘Circa Survive’ perform on Friday*

*Herein we see the neglecting nature of my posts lately. I started working on this blog post on Wednesday and am currently snug in bed at a B&B in Syracuse after a wonderful performance.

I was introduced to a new band , “Ume” the opening act for Circa Survive, and though it took me a few songs before I could decide, I liked their sound. I’m a person that loves a good melody almost as much as lyrics that I can understand, so as soon as they performed one of their songs with a heavy beat and moving melody both I and the rest of the crowd were into it. Watching Ume perform was an experience that left little doubt to their love of music and the energy they put into their sets. During the performance each member played in a way that was very near making love to their instrument.Making love is quite literally the only way I can describe the pure energy and physicality that they exuded on stage and the crowd lapped it up.

Of course people were there to see the main act but for the opening band to walk away with new fans from those who had never heard of their music is a solid achievement in my book. I will definitely buy their music and look forward to the day that they’re the headliners.

I had forgotten the feeling that a live show brings. The last live performance I had been to had been to see the band “Say Anything” perform in NYC over a year ago. There’s just something about being able to actually feel the music as it rattles around your ribcage. To feel the thick thuds of the drum through the soles of your feet and the scream and thwacks of the guitar and bass in your ears. There’s a physicality to being at a live show surrounded by other living breathing people with their scents and heat and even their sweat. There’s a sense of oneness within a group that develops for the brief time that the show is there.

I was also quickly reminded that it had been a long time since I had been in a mosh pit as well. Noteably it had been gentler than others that I’ve been in, more mutual pushing and shoving than the violent thrashing of limbs and fists, but it still doesn’t change the fact that I was very surprised to have a pit open up with your’s truly smack dab in the middle.

The true treat began when Circa Survive finally made an appearance on stage about which I will say this: No one does showmanship quite like Anthony Green. He was funny and energetic and truly made the performance. I’d never seen a crowd so quickly whipped up into an almost cult-like lather at a show before. It was amazing. It was like magic. Falling under the thrall of a musician that truly knew how to work his craft and a crowd. I’m sure if anyone was taking pictures that night,most of the faces captured would have been in the midst of some form of euphoria.

There were far too many fun and amazing things going on for me to name but a few of the highlights were for one having made the trip at all. Having lived in New York almost all of my life travelling to Syracuse alone and knowing no one was not only the first time I’d ever been Upstate but also a freeing experience. Just the scenery alone was enough to make me want to come back but also the people were wonderfully friendly. I’m sure not everyone is but the fact that the solo trip was so much fun and didn’t go wrong in areas where it could have gone really really wrong was enough to leave a good impression.

(An example of where it could have went wrong is when I first arrived to the venue fresh off the bus and being told that I couldn’t bring my bag inside: the one bookbag I brought that held my sleep clothes, laptop, wallet[ID,Cash, Debit Card, SSC] phone, keys, book & food/water.[Despite the list it was an average sized backpack, just full] But the bouncer was very nice after checking if I was under 21, which I am for about 3 more months, and drawing a big black X in marker across the back of each hand and let me leave my bag behind the ticket desk.)

Another highlight was that I booked a room on to rent a room in someone’s home for the night and my host turned out to be a perfectly nice young man around the same age as me. The home and room was lovely and in a quiet neighborhood close enough to the theater venue where the show was held to walk to. I did begin to walk into the wrong yard in the dark but very a quiet calico cat keeping watch sat in the driveway staring at me silently. I suppose it was telling me that I had the wrong house. At least it kept me from the embarrassment I’m sure I would have felt had I went rummaging in the neighbor’s mailbox for a key that would have most certainly not been there.

The friendliness of everyone and shear abundance of nature up there made me yearn to be surrounded by trees again. A hiking trip in the future has to be in order!

Getting back to the subject of pits I really was surprised by the camaraderie everyone (in the section I was in at least) seemed to have for each other. No crowd surfer was dropped despite the rudeness of putting your sneakers unexpectedly in someone’s neck. When a young man fell in the pit no less than six people rushed to pick him up.And Anthony who had been goading the crowd into a higher frenzy was very hands-on with the fans. Quite a few very lucky crowdsurfers were beckoned to and allowed to grip his hands before very no-nonsense roadies whisked them off. One especially exuberant and very long blond haired man was crowd surfing and singled out by Green with:

“YOU. Yes. Come here baby hippie. Little Hippie Puppy. Scooby Doo.” The guy and the crowd was in heaven and laughing even at the bar.

He may have also asked the crowd to lick our neighbors sweaty cheek and become one, which to my knowledge no one took him up on. Hopefully.

It was a very enjoyable evening spent dancing poorly, moving to the sway of the crowd and being crooned to by a very charismatic man with a melodic high pitched voice.

The music isn’t as hard pounding as other bands I listen to which makes it very good writing music because of most songs melodic quality.

Isn’t the album art absolutely lovely?

Pondering Autumns in July and Losing Time


, , ,

So yesterday I finally took my permit test and I’m that much closer to being a fully licensed adult —relax motorists you have at least a month’s worth of a grace period before the terror known as me joins you on the road. I find this all part wonderfully exciting and new as well as part very anti-climatic seeing as how I’m currently 20 years old and only just now getting around to doing this.

It’s been a trying week between long overnight hours babysitting and my day job working in the local grocery store. As those of you who’ve worked retail near a holiday knows: it’s the customers that can either make the day go fast in a good way or unbelievably slow in a bad one. The nice ones always make me feel a little bit better throughout the day and of course I have my favourites. The Fourth of July preparations at the store, of both customers and employees, has been frustrating to say the least and to add to the week’s list of trying details it has been dreadfully hot.

I do not like summer. At All. Between the biting bugs and the burning sun as well as the never-quite-dry feeling of muggy humidity; the week or rather the whole month has been a hot sticky mess. The rainstorms were a much needed but oh too brief reprieve.

I much prefer the brisk cool of autumn and the crispy sounds of dry leaves scraping across the pavement. The lovely assortment of witchy-things that go up about the trees and lawns. The wonderful anticipation of Samhain (Halloween) with sticky sweet candy, tasty apples and delightfully creepy otherworldly creatures running from house to house asking for treats or planning naughty tricks.

I miss the smell of pumpkin sweets and cinnamon and the welcome warmth of spiced cider. I’ve always been an Autumn child both being born on the 11th of October and finding comfort in the brief Autumn activities of Samhain and ghost stories. Halloween is my favourite holiday by far and I find the history and the mythology of autumn rituals fascinating.

And while I can talk about autumn and mythology all day the summer heat is sweltering and the home is woefully lacking in an air conditioner. The heat is distracting and making it very difficult to disappear into fantasies of autumns, let alone write.

And there in lies the real root of my frustrations. I haven’t been able to write. I know, I know that there’s the mantra of “If you wanna write, you have to make time!”. Which is all well and good in theory but when you have a day job, even if it’s only four or six hours as well as an overnight job watching children, which is considerably longer even if they’re all your siblings, it’s very hard to find the time where you can legitimately afford the energy expense.
“The baby’s sleeping? Well that’s the perfect time for you to write!” Not so much when the scant few hours the child is sleeping is when you should be trying to steal a few winks yourself. Especially if you want to have energy for your late morning shift.

The problem is time, if only there were more hours in a day. The heat doesn’t help either. Living by the sea gives the air a thick cloying weight that settles on the skin and refuses to let go. Its hard to write at the best of times but the pressing weight and mild fear of dehydration compounds it. But then again, if we all waited for the perfect conditions to do something, nothing would get done. I suppose that’s all that we can hope for, that the little sacrifices of comfort we make now will work out for us in the end. Which is why right now I’m writing when I should be sleeping, while the little tyke is out like a light before his next bottle feeding. I should be resting for my stressful and slogging shift. I’m writing because I promised myself that I would write. That this blog wouldn’t stay empty. I’m writing because I told myself that I’d finish the first draft of my novel before the summer is over and I won’t accomplish that by hiding from the heat and wishing for Autumns.

I can always reward myself later with tea and apple scones. But in the mean time there is work to be done.

Have to start somewhere….


, ,

Starting pages isn’t my strong suit, at least not without involving a few restarts, page crashes and nail biting so it’s either dive in head first or keep dithering at the edge. As I’ve been debating on how to start this blog and ultimately what it’s going be about for months I’d say I better jump now.

To be honest I’ve never blogged before, especially not for what I mean to become a fully public but mostly personal piece. I have various authors that I admire and due to the fortunes of the times, they’re very reachable through social media and considering how I’d very much like to become one of those reachable authors I’m striving to emulate some aspects of their model. Of course when first starting out with anything I (and probably many others) start out by copying the style of others until we get a feel for what works best and what doesn’t with our voice and personality. This has been my mini-disclaimer for the inevitable hodge-podgey mix of blog ideas until I can get my sea legs and can create something truly my own.

What I hope for this blog to be is part journal, books reviews, art/photography posts and of course writing. I’m a big fan of Erin Morgenstern’s blog, especially her flax-golden tales and will probably post small short stories or drabbles in a similar manner. In fact if it wasn’t for reading Ms. Morgenstern’s  blog and viewing her journey from unpublished writer to best selling author this blog (and my now steadfast belief that if you have a story to tell there’s no point in waiting for permission to do it) probably wouldn’t be happening or at least not for a couple of years.


Here I am nattering on but forgetting probably the most important detail of the whole introduction thing:

Hello All, I’m Anne Kearney (not the chef!) and welcome to my blog.