nanowrimo calendar

Destined to Fall Apart

Here’s the thing about starting new projects: it’s never a good time. There are always things that are pressing, other priorities that need to be accomplished. We already occupy 24 hours a day doing whatever it is we choose to do. When we start new things, we don’t add hours to the day. We just have…

pie

Rinse, Repeat

Turkey. Mashed potatoes. Stuffing. Uncle Bob’s clam dip. Green beans. Rolls. Grammy’s sweet potatoes. Salad. Pumpkin cheesecake. Uncle Bill’s blackberry, pumpkin, and apple pies. Friends. Family. Gratitude. Laughter. Rinse. Repeat. Originally posted as Happy Thanksgiving! on November 27, 2014.  Welcome to Microvember, my take on NaBloPoMo. Each day this month I’ll be posting microfiction, short vignettes, or poetry,…

pills

Toxic

You’re toxic, I’m slipping under.  She sent me 21 snippets of paper with one word on each and said, “Here. Make a poem out of these.” The idea excited me, the poet in me, until I finally told her I couldn’t be her friend any longer. A week later I opened the slips and saw the…

My Writing Process

Back when I was doing my Vancouver travel series, I wrote a post called The 10 Best Things About Vancouver. The final post has nice headings, brief written explanations, and multiple photo galleries. The prewrite version? Well. Here it is: an inside look into my writing and thought processes. 1. The architecture. Urban decay, blah. 2.…

First Poetry Open Mic

“Next on our open mic…Sabina!!”  I grabbed the crumpled sheet of paper at my feet and stood up, practically tripping over the emcee as I walked up to the stage. “This is my first time reading,” I said, and the crowd responded by cheering and waving their “Muppet Arms” excitedly in the air, a tradition…

I Remember #3

I remember the photo I should’ve taken–two teenage girls in plaid skirts chatting and leaning on a police barricade as if it was no big deal. I remember the bizarrely empty 2am bus. I remember not expecting forgiveness. I remember not being forgiven. I remember sitting with her on the back patio, hating every single sound she spoke and…