My Life as a Spy by Deb Jennifer

Reading Harriet the Spy by Louise Fitzhugh turned me into a writer.  Eleven-year-old Harriet M. Welsch (the M her own invention), as you may or may not recall, wants to be a writer.  So to prepare for being a writer, she decides to become a spy.  She keeps a notebook full of observations of the world around her — brutally honest observations about her friends, people she sees on the…

Wednesday, January 10, 2007
Read More >>

The Little Girl That Could

Ask me to think of my favorite childhood book and my mind comes up with Blubber. Then I think of Forever. What about the sweet, lovely little tales that I first heard back when I was a little innocent, I wondered? I remembered Pat the Bunny, suddenly recalling that I pulled the fur off of my copy. A call to Mom was in order. I was a bit reticent to…

Monday, January 8, 2007
Read More >>

Loving John by Deb Jennifer

I can’t write about my true first love.  I fear legal action.  Suffice it to say it was messy and dripping with all the drama two somewhat unbalanced teenaged girls could muster. But before this was John.  John Doe.  My husband. I think I was inspired to create John after watching Frankenstein for the thousandth time.  Having no cadavers to work with, I used what materials were available: his hands…

Wednesday, January 3, 2007
Read More >>

Love Actually by Deb Anna

Okay, this is the topic that made me seriously reconsider whether or not I can be a part of this whole Deb thing. See, my biggest insecurity in life — and trust me, this one has a lot of competition — is that I don’t understand love (anyone who knows about my other life as a sex and relationship expert can hopefully appreciate the irony of this). And in this…

Monday, January 1, 2007
Read More >>

The Deadliest Kernel by Deb Kristy

When I was a child, my brother and I spent our summers in Tennessee, splitting our time between our mother’s mother and her husband, and our father’s parents. They were vastly different families, in food, dress, religion, expectations of behavior, punishment, and entertainment. (Contrast those summers with our usual life of freedom in Florida the rest of the year and it’s no wonder I developed a fertile imagination; hell, I’m…

Saturday, December 30, 2006
Read More >>

Drive-In by Debutante Jennifer

When I was a kid, Saturday night was drive-in night.  Because they charged by the person, we’d arrive at the drive-in packed into the trunk of my best friend Lynn’s mom’s car.  It was a big old boat of a car, and we could fit four kids in that trunk.  Sometimes, she’d let us ride back there the whole way from her house.  We had a flashlight and told each…

Wednesday, December 27, 2006
Read More >>

My protagonist and I By Deb Anna

I remember my mom, an avid reader, telling me when I was little that first novels were almost always autobiographical. At that stage, I was reading lots of S.E. Hinton books and had just discovered that S.E. was, in fact, a woman. So there was a lot of time spent plenty trying to figure out where she was in the midst of all those Ponyboy’s and Sodapop’s. It’s not so…

Monday, December 18, 2006
Read More >>

The Age of Innocence by Deb Kristy

The first moment I realized I was a grown-up was when I was nine years old. I came in from climbing trees in the back yard, orange trees, came through the back door, the kitchen. The house was quiet. I moved through the dining room and into the living room, past the sofas placed in front of the defunct fireplace at perfect 90 degree angles, and on toward the stairs. And…

Saturday, December 9, 2006
Read More >>

Enjoying the Ride by Deb Eileen

When I was 9 I couldn’t wait to be 10 because then I would be double digits which as anyone would tell you is far better than single digits. When I was 10 I wanted to be 13 because then I would be a “real” teenager and thus party to all the fun that Seventeen magazine promised me: boys, lipgloss and the much hoped for arrival of boobs. When I…

Friday, December 8, 2006
Read More >>

Second Star to the Right by Deb Jennifer

Peter Pan was a childhood hero of mine.  Like him, I had no interest in growing up.  I looked at the adults around me and thought, “no way is that ever going to be me.” I was not going to get up each morning to go to a job I hated.  I would never drink a martini with disgusting green olives that looked like lizard eyeballs skewered on toothpicks, watch…

Wednesday, December 6, 2006
Read More >>