Writing stories is like giving birth. Some stories slip out nice& easy. Others need a bit of pain medication & some pushing. Still others require the barbaric use of forceps. This

If recent history is a decent indicator, my day will probably go something like this: Wake up to kids fighting. Yell at them until they eat their cereal. Drive older boy to school,

"Diaries are kept by men: strong brushstrokes on smooth mulberry paper, gathered into sheaves and tied with ribbon and placed in a lacquered box."

Dear Abby, Why does my Venus Flytrap plant keep grabbing at the zipper on my trousers? - Baffled Botanist in Boston

The sound that came from the loudspeakers started to feel like a stream of happiness, honey and marshmallows, and It was flowing directly into my thirsty ears. That was no "aspirin

I shrugged with every fiber of my being.. Finally the big fat hairy smelly sweaty greasy carbuncle-covered weight was off my shoulders.

The Monroes were a strange family. We called them the 'Munsters'. They had a zombie doorstop that tried to grab you when you rang their skull knocker. But a dare was a dare

You complain about the rain, but secretly, you adore it.

And might come potatoes not with rain, though. This is enevitably four for five wouldn't, alas, mixed toasts have rights. But on the bean with the rain is not what was thought by

She goes crazy for Gomez's hamburger.

Ginger didn't fit in to the cogwheel community of Meticulotopia, from her red locks & freckles to her bare feet. One day she stole a pony and rode to the land of floating hillocks

To be immortal, Anna tried to reduce herself to something abstract: 13. You can't kill 13. Anna walked under ladders on Fridays, then broke mirrors with black cats, but that caused

The crowded cheered and he basked in the glow of success. When they started chanting "speech speech" his handlers tried moving him off the balcony, but it was too late: "My fellow

I carefully carried the moonbeams home in my bra. After a night out swinging on a star I found the moonbeam in a jar. I considered feeding the moonbeams to my fish but

I picked up my dark shallow mind from staring at the floor, just to find my enemy hoovering me. I should've never told her mother that she

Koko the talking gorilla was starting to understand "You keep feeding fruit to Koko when Koko answer your question. Koko want take own fruit! Koko also want partner, Koko feel very

I don't know. I honestly don't. I guess I just snapped or something. Apparently, yesterday, in some sort of fugue state I'd

Flower 1 concluded, "She loves me"; Flower 2 concluded, "She loves me not." It seems even the One Mind all flowers share is susceptible to doublethink. My dystopian flower garden

It's bad enough the music on the radio is playing sucky Pink songs, & now I have to take the monitor to the Apple store bc the cat peed on it, but do we have to play "What # am I

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