Things Need Not Have Happened To Be True

Monday, December 11, 2017

I have long been a hoarder of quotes. I keep files and files full of them, some organized by theme, some separated by source. I genuinely miss the days when I could show them off and use them to express my current mood in AIM away messages or in LiveJournal subject lines. This week, the Debs are sharing some of our favorite quotes about writing, books, stories, all of that….

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On Dream Jobs: Kimmery’s Fork In The Road

Wednesday, November 22, 2017

  Today we are writing about the road not taken, a subject I like to spring on unsuspecting people at dinner parties. “What would you do if you weren’t managing hostile corporate takeovers?” I’ll say to the man next to me, and he’ll look at me like I have four heads and then mumble something about how he also likes hedge funds. On reflection, maybe my city is not the…

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Kimmery’s Defense of Contest Losers

Wednesday, November 15, 2017

This week we are talking about writing contests, which is going to be an interesting discussion for me because I’m here to represent the losers. Contests, while presumably wonderful if you win them, or at least receive some attention from them, are not the path to publication for some of us. I’ve entered one writing contest: Pitch Wars. It describes itself this way: Pitch Wars is a contest where published/agented…

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Kimmery Investigates Slow Time

Wednesday, September 20, 2017

A few weeks ago, I stumbled across an article in National Geographic about the longest train ride through India.  You know how every now and then you read something that triggers some awakening in your mind, as if the author had composed his language solely for you?  To me this article was so arrestingly beautiful, so beautifully phrased, and so poignant that it seemed personal. Bear with me here through…

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Deb Elise’s Most Loathed Teacher Ever

I loathed everything about Emmett Woodshanks (not his real name — his real name was far less Dickensian.  He also didn’t look like Alan Rickman. I probably would have liked him a lot more if he had). I loathed his nearly-bald head, with its wreath of orange hair.  I loathed his close-cropped beard and mustache.  I loathed his wire-rimmed circular glasses.  I loathed the way he licked his upper lip…

Monday, January 31, 2011
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