All the signs were there.
As a teenager, when I pictured my someday home, I imagined a cottage in the woods. Peaceful and serene, with a typewriter, a piano, and a cat. No children running around; no husband interrupting my concentration. Just me, on my own, writing books. Continue reading →
This afternoon, I woke from a nap and checked my email (as one does). Among the messages, two stood out.
One was a very kind rejection from a literary magazine.
The other was an acceptance from Intrinsick, an online literary journal.
Continue reading →