I’ve got a deadline for a magazine feature story on anglophilia coming up quickly. This kind of deadline-induced pressure gives me great pleasure because I know that by 10 p.m. tonight, I will be able to write with reckless abandon without a peep from my Inner Editor. We both want this done on time.



I always like my first pages best. There is something compelling and intricate about them, the words all fit together like snug, colorful puzzle pieces. Then I hit chapter two and everything crumbles into disjointed, stagnant sentences.


The imagination is highly underrated in the Real World. It’s all fun and dandy when you’re a kid – every cartoon you’d sit down to watch sings at you to explore your imagination. But once you grow up, imagination is checked at the door in favor of cold, hard reality. It is reduced to a “just“. It was just your imagination. You were just imagining. Except if someone is trying to get you to do something you don’t want to do. Then you get an annoyed, fervent: “Use your imagin-ation!”

This concept of being able to turn on, turn off, or regulate the imagination is wrong. The imagination is there, whether you like it or not. Stifled, gagged, but not dead. You can’t get rid of it – and why would you want to? Adults with bold, untamed imaginations shaped this precious thing you call your reality.


This week’s writing club session is going to entail reading snippets of our works-in-progress. Despite being the president, I am filled with dread. The dual forces of writers block and stage fright pay no heed  to hierarchy.


hiraeth (Welsh, n.) a homesickness for a home to which you cannot return, a home which maybe never was; the nostalgia, the yearning, the grief for the lost places of your past.

Have you ever wanted to write an entire novel based on a single definition?


Still trying to come up with the perfect formula for an inspired writing session. I’m curious for feedback:

Do you prefer to carve out a tight hour or two in a busy schedule? Is it more helpful to have an entire lazy weekend in which to write several languid sentences? At this point I’m willing to try anything . . .