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

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

The Ultimate Home Theater by Deb Mia

Now, try not to be jealous, but here it is. I have a home theater. I know, I know. My book hasn’t even hit the shelves yet and already I’m acting very Hollywood, home theater and all. What can I say? State-of-the-art sound system, huge flat screen, plush velvet sofas and a fully-stocked mini bar and kitchenette. Every movie you could possibly ever want, right at your fingertips. (cough) Okay,…

Thursday, December 28, 2006

Salty and Sweet by Deb Anna

There’s simply no way I can write the word “popcorn” and not delve into my popcorn-and-Milk Duds combo obsession. I don’t know when it started. I just know that today, as soon as someone says, “Hey, are you interested in seeing…” I’m already imagining scooping a handful of butter-drenched corn and Milk Dud into my mouth. Sometimes, when I’m not feeling remotely inspired by what’s out there, the thought is…

Monday, December 25, 2006

Friends and Fodder by Deb Eileen

It is well known that many writers base their protagonist on themselves. There is only one problem with that- I’m boring. My parents gave me a frightfully normal and healthy upbringing.  Although I am sure they had my best interests at heart, this deprived me of material for my creative muse. Sure there were a few times when my dad’s sense of humor would leave me certain I would die…

Friday, December 22, 2006

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

Beauty Fades, Stupid is Forever by Deb Eileen

I’m home sick with a head cold. The vast quantities of over the counter medication has left me washed up on the sofa, surrounded by crumbled damp tissues, unable to move and barely able to pull together a cohert thought.  This doesn’t bode well for this post. I don’t want to write, reading seems to complicated, so I am reduced to watching day time TV. (stick with me- this does connect to…

Friday, December 15, 2006

The Bald and the Beautiful By Debutante Anna

Okay, I’ll come right out and confess it: balding men is a topic I’ve been dreading. Not because I have deep, painful issues relating to men devoid of hair but because I don’t. I don’t have a bald men fetish, nor do I think hairlessness on one’s scalp makes one undesirable. You’re never going to hear my claim that Bruce Willis really does it for me or that Patrick Stewart…

Monday, December 11, 2006

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

Saturday Night Fever By Deb Anna

On Saturday nights, our family was happy. During the week, Dad wasn’t ever around, my brother and I fought, and Mom made a sound effort (though not sound enough for her overly observant and analytical daughter) to hide her unhappiness. But on Saturdays, we pretended to be a happy family. And we pretended well.

Sunday, November 12, 2006