10 Confessions of this writer:
- I take Wellbutrin, Xanax, and a couple glasses of wine on the daily.
- Writing makes me super hungry. I write, pace, snack, and repeat.
- I can’t deal with men on airplanes wearing tank tops. This is not writing related, but it’s true.
- Today I feel strongly that I like Ikea way better than I like my writing. Way better. I’m having a really difficult time with the draft of the new book I’m working on. My novel is currently a sloppy, confusing mess, and I have no idea what it needs, or where it’s going, or what to do. At Ikea, there’s an arrow on the floor. I fucking love that arrow. I wish my novel had an arrow that I could just follow and end up somewhere that I’m supposed to be. At Ikea, the tidy, little bedrooms and living rooms are all set up, neat and organized, unlike the massive swamp-pit of chaos and hideousness that is my new novel. Ikea is full of useful things, and I walk around thinking, “OH! I need a can opener, a throw pillow, and a framed picture of the Eiffel tower.” Reading through my novel, I don’t have a clue what I need and no ideas are presenting themselves to me. And sitting here, in despair, I don’t think it’s unreasonable to hope that I might come across some Swedish meatballs to make me feel better.
- I used to have very sweaty hands, but I do Botox three times a year, and now they don’t sweat anymore. But they used to sweat a lot. How bad was it? Let’s just say that from an early age I knew I could never become an electrician.
- I often have ridiculous, fun, or drama-filled 80s and 90s movies on in the background while I write. I don’t actually watch them; they just keep me company. Examples: Under Siege, Mystic Pizza, Volcano, The Abyss, Witness, Independence Day, Terms of Endearment, A Few Good Men, Deep Impact, Baby Boom,…
- Hot flashes are the worst. Again, not writing related. Just true.
- In my twenties, I wanted to be a smoker. I tried to develop a habit for about a year, but it never took.
- My to-be-read stacks have taken over my entire apartment. I can barely maneuver around the piles of books all over the floor. What do I do? Please send help.
- I have serious hermit tendencies and love it when I have little to no human contact on a given day. That said, in the evening I love company. So invite me out to dinner anytime. I will very likely say yes.
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Amy Poeppel grew up in Dallas, Texas and left the south to attend Wellesley College. Since then, she has worked as an actor, a high school English teacher, and most recently as the Assistant Director of Admissions at a school in New York City. Her three fabulous boys are all off in Boston attending school, and she and her husband now split their time between New York and Frankfurt, Germany. A theatrical version of SMALL ADMISSIONS was workshopped at the Actors Studio Playwrights/Directors Unit. She later expanded it into her first novel.
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