I Hope I Die Before You

When you are young, and you say you will love someone forever, you have no idea what that means.

You never imagine that this beautiful fairy tale could ever end. Nothing could sever such a rare connection. You know, somewhere in the back of your mind, that people die, that people you love will die, and so will you, but your brain somersaults around logic, and you believe the rule does not apply to you, let alone the one you love. Love transcends all. Love makes all things possible.

So, with forever to look forward to, you build a home, you make a family, you share bank accounts. You fight, and you forget each other because you have all the time in the world. You never stop to consider the pain one of you will feel when one of you will leave this world and the other behind. You realize what you’ve wasted only after it’s too late.

After 31 years on this planet, and 14 years with the girl of my dreams, it is sinking in, one day one of us will be alone. Forever isn’t quite forever, not the way I thought. Life seems so much shorter than it used to and even if I got 100 more years with her it wouldn’t feel like enough.


I am scared.

I often dream that I am roaming from room to room in our home calling her name and searching, but I can’t find her anywhere. Sometimes I dream that I am in choking and sobbing telling her story at her funeral. Sometimes I am calling to her from some kind of white afterlife where I am alone and afraid, but she can’t hear me. Sometimes I hear her calling to me, but I cannot get to her.

I suppose my mind is playing out a trauma I might one day experience. Somewhere inside I am working through what I think it will feel like to be torn from her.

I talk to her about my fears of course, because talking to her is the only way I know how to work things out in my mind. I tell her that I can’t stop worrying about her and that my heart hurts when I think about one of us dying before the other. She tells me not to worry about it. She tells me she will be fine. She tells me we have plenty of time before we need to worry.

I tell her she doesn’t know that.


I become obsessed, trying to work through what will happen to each of us when the other is gone.

I tell her that if I die she has to go live with someone, preferably with family. I know her, she is very private and will try to cope alone. Someone will have to make sure to gets enough sleep, eats enough food and doesn’t work too hard. Someone will have to do all the things I do for her now. Someone will have to stand up to her for her own good, but I don’t know anyone who can.

I tell her that if anything ever happened to me, I want her to date again and find someone who will love her and take care of her when she is ready. She says the same back to me. I feel relieved. At least neither of us will have to worry that the other wouldn’t approve.

I tell her that I am afraid if she dies first my heart and mind won’t be able to handle it. There is no way I will be able to stay in our home, or throw away her things, or go back to the job where we both have worked for so many years.

I am certain I will lose my mind. I am certain I will self-destruct in one way or another. I will be desperate to find her in the place we all go when we aren’t here anymore. I will be desperate to escape. I know I will not recover.

She tells me again and again, we have time, we are okay, she is okay, everything is okay.

I only become more anxious.


We bury the pain that comes with facing mortality in jokes that aren’t jokes at all.

We laugh about double suicides and imagine ways we might die together. What will happen to the house and the animals if we are both in a car accident, a plane crash, an earthquake, a bombing, anything! Dying together is the best case scenario, and these are our secret hopes.

One life without the other makes no sense. How could the world will go on spinning? How could people keep doing what they have always done? How can we wake up again in bed alone? This is impossible. This is insulting.

Laying in the bed, both of us staring at the ceiling through the dark she squeezes my hand and tells me this is how she would like to die.

It is sweet.


More and more often these thoughts come to me, and when I look at her, I want to cry.

She is so beautiful and so strong. She has shown me so much love and made my life something truly good. I am sad that such beautiful and rare things have to end. I am angry there is no way out or around the inevitable. I am angry she would be yanked from this world, and me, the one who loves her best.I am angry that I must go too. I don’t want to leave her lost and alone in this world.

I tell her I hope I die before her.

She doesn’t know what to say anymore.

I wonder if I am crazy. I wonder if I am the only one trying to cope with the future. She never seems to be as scared, but I do notice that, from time to time, she clings to me at night too after dreaming I was lost to her. She lays on my chest and cries because it felt too real. I pat her back and try to soothe her, but I don’t know how.

I say the only thing I can.

I tell her I am here, I am fine, and we have so much time before we have to worry about anything like that.


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Natalie Goldberg on Being A Warrior While Writing

Writing, like any art or discipline, takes practice and dedication to learning about the craft from those who have come before you. In learning, I like to teach, so each week I will take a piece of advice from the greats, both living and dead, famous and not, and apply their lessons to my own work and share my thoughts and progress with you.

This week I have chosen a quote from the popular American writer and speaker, Natalie Goldberg.

natalie_goldbergNatalie Goldberg lived in Brooklyn until she was six when her family moved out to Farmingdale, Long Island, where her father owned the bar the Aero Tavern. From a young age, Goldberg was mad for books and reading, and especially loved Carson McCullers’s The Ballad of the Sad Cafe, which she read in ninth grade. She thinks that single book led her eventually to put pen to paper when she was twenty-four years old. She received a BA in English literature from George Washington University and an MA in humanities from St. John’s University.

From a young age, Goldberg was mad for books and reading, and especially loved Carson McCullers’s The Ballad of the Sad Cafe, which she read in ninth grade. She thinks that single book led her eventually to put pen to paper when she was twenty-four years old. She received a BA in English literature from George Washington University and an MA in humanities from St. John’s University.

Goldberg has painted for as long as she has written, and her paintings can be seen in Living Color: A Writer Paints Her World and Top of My Lungs: Poems and Paintings. They can also be viewed at the Ernesto Mayans Gallery on Canyon Road in Sante Fe.

A dedicated teacher, Goldberg has taught writing and literature for the last thirty-five years. She also leads national workshops and retreats, and her schedule can be accessed via her website: nataliegoldberg.com

Her 1986 book Writing Down the Bones: Freeing the Writer Within has sold over a million copies and is considered an influential work on the craft of writing. Her 2013 book, The True Secret of Writing, is a follow-up to that work.

In 2006, she completed with the filmmaker Mary Feidt a one-hour documentary, Tangled Up in Bob, about Bob Dylan’s childhood on the Iron Range in Northern Minnesota. The film can be obtained on Amazon or the website tangledupinbob.com.

Goldberg has been a serious Zen practitioner since 1974 and studied with Katagiri Roshi from 1978 to 1984.

“You must be a great warrior when you contact first thoughts and write from them”

— Natalie Goldberg

I wrote a piece for Femsplain a while ago and now that it has finally gone live this week. When I wrote the piece, I was very unsure of it. It wasn’t supposed to turn out so emotional, so raw, so personal but I wrote a little differently than I normally do. I wrote and wrote of hours, not editing, not worrying, not thinking about grammar, spelling, or structure. I just wrote and so much came out of me that I hadn’t thought about in so long I ended up having to cut the piece nearly in half to meet the word count restriction.

I think I have a bit of talent, or at least a great passion that could lead to talent, but I am new to letting go so completely. I wouldn’t say this is my very best work, but it felt the best to write.

Typically when I write the free writer in me and the editor and critic in me fill the same space all at once. I am usually writing against the clock—I am a chronic procrastinator—and I try my best to kill two birds with one stone. I write the piece freely, without worrying about grammar or spelling, but I try to keep a final structure or goal in mind. I try to stay inside the lines, but I try to choose colors that are interesting but realistic.

I tried something new with this piece, and with a few more I hope to submit to Femsplain, to other publications, and for myself and my readers here. I am writing with only feeling. I am letting myself be wordy, chaotic, emotional, and without structure or an end game in mind. I write everything I feel on the subject, for days, and by the end, I have a pile of feeling and history that is all me.

Then, each sentence and paragraph become little puzzle pieces I move here and there where I think they fit best, then I trim the fat. I look for repetition that serves no purpose and work to curb my habit of over-explaining and meandering away from the topic.

I do everything I can to preserve some of those first feelings I faced when I began. I try to keep the force of the piece. I want to feel hurt or happy by the end. I want to feel what it is I am trying to get the reader to feel. I let myself feel afraid and a little embarrassed by my openness. I let myself cry a little, get angry a little, and I keep writing still. I do it by thinking of those feeling as a sign that I might be writing something worth reading.


When I first face those feelings, they are too big and scary to share with the world. Some of the things I think and feel are disturbing and very hard to describe. I think I might drive people away. People might laugh at me. I may hurt someone. I might, in fact, be insane. I write through all of that too.

Goldberg says that there is nothing wrong with at least putting it all down on paper quickly and passionately at first. At the start you are just you, later you can decide what parts to share or keep to yourself. Just get it all out and look at the whole before you do.

You can clean it up. You can find a way to say what you are trying to say in a better way.

But for now, fill the space you have with what is deep, and meaningful, and entirely you.


I started a weekly-ish newsletter on life, love, and suffering. You can sign up here: (:

Featured image via Wikipedia

Biographical information via Goodreads

Check out: Natalie Goldberg on Writing What Disturbs You

Find the People Worth Suffering For

Hello, dear readers and happy…Tuesday! I know I know, I’m late, but I still want to start the week off right. I still want to think about the way I do things and the way I wish I did things. I still want to make changes in my life, and I want to share those changes with you.

For me, this week is off to a very rough start, obviously. I have been nearly bedridden since Saturday evening with the very worst migraine I have ever had. Nothing I tried helped. Not ibuprophen—my go to painkiller—not sleep, not warm showers, not cold showers, not hot tea, caffeine, or relaxation exercises or stretching. I couldn’t handle light or sound or even moving from one position to another.

What ended up doing the trick was a packet of BC Powder—aspirin and caffeine in power form—that I got from a friend. It felt like a miracle.

I did receive some good news, too! My very first paid writing piece went up today. A personal essay I wrote for Femsplain on my relationship with my mother, her failures, and my own titled She Didn’t Succeed, but I’m the One Who Failed. It’s very personal. I’ve only been able to read it once since it went up last night and I was in tears. I’d love if you all checked it out, left some feedback, and shared it if you find it worthy.

“The truth is, everyone is going to hurt you. You just got to find the ones worth suffering for”

— Bob Marley

I grew up in an environment where we were all supposed to be strong, independent, and unforgiving. If someone hurt us just once, we cut them out of our lives for good. These were the lessons taught to me and to nearly every kid I knew. What I noticed early on in my life was that while this was the advice being given to us, no adult in my life seemed to be any happier for it.*

I saw a lot of adults suffering because they were alone. They were harsh and found any small reason to cut someone from their lives. I found myself frustrated just watching every mistake and misunderstanding lead to fights and the cold shoulder. These people were suffering alone when they should have been looking for people who were worth suffering for.

As an adult, I watch these same kinds of people do the same sorts of things around me. They were taught the same lessons and like the people who taught them to be so ruthless, don’t seem happier for it at all.

No one encouraged them to find a middle ground. No one thought about the middle ground because humans have a hard time seeing that the same mistakes they make are made by everyone else. They can’t understand those other people, like them, have good intentions, but they just fuck it up sometimes. They don’t know that everyone hurts everyone else. Human being are complicated creatures, and sometimes we act in ways that are the opposite of how we wish to.

Yeah, you said the wrong thing. You offered the wrong kind of help. You made things worse. You raised your voice. You said something you didn’t mean. You hurt someone’s feelings. You weren’t there. Your phone was on silent. You forgot to text back. You lost track of time. You forgot their birthday. You didn’t notice the new haircut. You came to the wrong conclusion. You didn’t listen. You got angry over nothing, but you didn’t mean it. You are sorry. Can’t we all move on? Can’t you just forgive me?

When you make mistakes, you expect to be forgiven.

When someone does them to you, you don’t need that in your life?

When we make mistakes that no one will forgive, when we didn’t mean it, and we want to make it up, it can be devastating when we find we will not be forgiven. We are labeled as something people don’t have time for, don’t need, and will not put up with.

What we all have to realize is that we are all very, very flawed, but we are wonderful too. We have to learn to see ourselves in other people, not just for what is good in all of us but also for what is bad.

When you hurt the people you love, you don’t mean it. You are usually either just angry and have lost temporary control of yourself, or you have perceived the situation wrong and acted from a distorted or false reality. You are not a bad person. You just messed up. The people in your life, for the most part, are the same too. They screwed up, and they could use a little understanding and forgiveness.

This week I just want you to recognize the people in your life who may mess up from time to time but who you know are really there for you, care about you, and want the best for you.

Your friend may have forgotten to call you, but she might have been there for you through some of you worst times. Your mom may have said the wrong thing when you needed her to be there for you, but she may not have meant it quite the way she said it—mothers are famous for this.

Your girlfriend/boyfriend left their socks out, again, they didn’t wash the dishes, again, and they forgot to pick up the milk on the way home, again. They mess it up, time and time again, but there may be some good they do too. They rub your back after a stressful day. They buy you your favorite candy to cheer you up. The text you sweet nothings and kissy face emojis all day from work.

People are going to hurt you, but there are surely people worth hurting for. They have good intentions, they care, they love you and want you to do all the things you want to in this life.

Keep those people, forgive those people, and pray they do the same for you.


*There are, of course, times when a person is not worth fighting for. There is a difference between mistakes and misunderstandings and outright abuse. If you are questioning the difference or under which category your relationship falls I encourage you to seek help.

I started a weekly-ish newsletter on life, love, and suffering. You can sign up here: (:

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If We Were Having Coffee // I Won!…Now What?

Hello, dear readers! Thank you for stopping by tonight for a big cup of coffee and a little bit of conversation and catching up. I’m so sorry I couldn’t meet up with you earlier, I had a few errands to run and some Christmas shopping that took a lot longer than I anticipated. It’s not very late but this time of year the sun sets early, and it feels much later than it is.

I may not be in the best spirits this evening. I’ve had a migraine off and on since last night. It’s a strange one, coming in painful waves over the top of my head. It has sapped my energy and left me grouchy and struggling to enjoy what is left of my weekend. At least the weather was nice today.  I tried my best to soak it up while I could since the forecast calls for snow and temperatures well below freezing this week. Ugh.


I did it!

If we were having coffee, I would definitely start by mentioning my big stressful NaNoWriMo win. Part of me is super proud of myself for getting it done, but another part of me is having a hard time believing I really did it. I mean, I wrote 50,000 words of a novel. I’ve never done anything like this before. I’m not sure what it means, or where I go from here. There is a third part of me that thinks it really didn’t mean anything at all.


What I did write was nowhere near the end of the story. So, if I want to use it, I will have to keep writing. Looking back there is a lot of it I want to change or scrap entirely. So, there will always be extensive rewrites of what I already have. Those 50,000 words felt almost impossible, but this rest, the “what now?” feels is overwhelming.

The plan, for now, is to just leave it all be and work on other things this month. Then, in January, when I’ve had time to let is stew in the back of my mind I will start fresh again. I’ll take it one step at a time and shoot for 500 words a day until I have a real first draft to work with.


If we were having coffee, I would tell you that besides that, not much else is happening. I have a few projects in the works, but my main focus is to catch up on small things here.

I have seriously neglected my editorial calendar. I still need to get a logo. I have a ton of your comments piled to reply to. My About and Now pages need revamping. I’m also going I might narrow my focus a bit, or at least introduce more science and math into my routine.

I’m planning some more robust cross posting to Tumblr and Medium. I want to spend some time on my Facebook Page—or get rid of it—and learn how to grow my Twitter following too.

You know, regular blogging stuff.


If we were having coffee, I would tell you that my next big project has been on my to-do list for over a year. My zine.

While writing for NaNoWriMo, I had a breakthrough on what I wanted to write about nd how I wanted to present my ideas. I am going to mix science and math with poetry and art. Every other page will feature some of my favorite facts and concepts, and the facing page will feature a bit of creativity from me relating to the fact or concept.

I want to share with the world my love for this universe. I want to share the awe I feel when I look up at the stars when I think about how time isn’t just a human concept but a real substance that stretches and shrinks. I want to teach people about how strange and beautiful this place is. I want to reveal how much more there is to reality than these human constructs we’ve invented. I want to widen our view.

I may never do any of that for anyone, but it’s important that I try. It’s important that I show people what the world looks and feels like through my eyes, mind, and heart.

Plus, it sounds like a lot of fun to make something tangible with my hands.


If we were having coffee, I would tell you that time is slipping away entirely too fast. I can hardly believe it’s already December and Christmas is right around the corner. After that, we’ll be in a whole new year!

I’m thinking a lot about this new year and trying to work out what I would like it to mean to me. So much can happen in a year. I may not know what is coming but I know there will be plenty of bad time, and I’m hoping for at least the same amount of good times too. Soon I’ll be making a list of goals and tasks to complete and working out where I would like to go from here.

I think I’ll try of a new year’s resolution—or two—too, just for fun, just to see if I can do it. I’d like to start exercising, making art every day, or traveling.


If we were having coffee, I would tell you that now it is really late and I really have to get going. My headache is getting bad again, and I think I need to go to bed where there is darkness and silence. I hope by morning I feel a bit better.

I hope you are doing well. I hope your week was productive and your weekend was relaxing. If you have time, stop by the comments and let me know what you’ve been up to and how you are feeling. I love hearing from you, even if I’m not always the best at replying.

Until next time :)



A lazy Saturday with my pets.



I started a weekly-ish newsletter on life, love, and suffering. You can sign up here: (:

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The Week’s End // A Round-up of Important Reads

Hello friends! If you’re looking for some interesting reads to check out while you relax, look no further, I got you covered. Here’s what’s been going on in the world, and on the internet, this week.

Trump Syllabus 2.0

Our President-elect and his white nationalists, neo-Nazi supporters.

The fight against HIV/AIDS is far from over.

A constitutional right to literacy.

Standing Rock is not just about land, or water, or the right to protest. It’s about people.

Find news you can trust and consume it greedily.

No one really wants to be nice.

“Somebody shoulda told me it would be like this, be like this, be like this.”

A bit of surprising flash fiction.


tenderqueerthings #52, Mar Pascual. 2016

And that’s it for this week. Have you read, watched, or written an interesting thing this week? Has something on the internet made you think or feel strongly? If so, drop a link in the comments.


This list was sent out with today’s newsletter To be Wrong is to be Human, as is to be Right. Please, check it out and subscribe :)

Original image via Unsplash

Currently // November 2016

This one is a little late, I know, but November was a hard month and as hard as I tried I just couldn’t find the time to get this written before the 30th. I still wanted to write it and share it with you, though. I want you to know about all the changes I have made, and what I am looking forward to in December. Better late than never, right?

So, here is what I am currently:

Writing my zine! I was able to get 50,000 words of my novel written for NaNoWriMo (Yay!) and, to be honest with you, that pace kind of burned me out. I think I might put it aside for now and work on another project, one I have been trying to get off the ground for a very long time. The zine will have the same title as this blog, and it will be what I always meant for this blog to be, a mixture of science and poetry. More details to come :)

Planning a new year of blog posts and ideas. Everything fell behind last month when I found that I had no time for anything except research and writing for NaNo. I fell behind in a lot of planning for this blog and my goals to get my work published other places too. So I’m dusting off my calendars, planners, and notebooks, and working on my to-do list and my editorial calendar.

Making a real effort to start talking about what I do and what I hope to do with my family and friends. I enjoy talking to all of you about my goal, dreams, and accomplishments but my closest friends never hear any of it. They have very little idea what I am doing when I go off on my own to type away on my tiny keyboard. I suppose I figure you all will understand and they won’t. I guess I’m just afraid to be laughed at. I have to get over that, though, and soon before I really start putting myself out there, right?

Anticipating the crazy Christmas season. Usually, I don’t care much for either Thanksgiving, or Christmas, or even for New Years but this year I feel differently. I wonder if it’s me getting older, or maybe I’m just happier and feeling more positive. Maybe I’m just desperate for any scrap of positivity I can find now that Trump and Company are doing scary things to the government. Either way, I’m glad to be feeling happy.

Reading The Elements of Style by William Strunk Jr. and E.B. White. It’s a very short book, but it’s boring! I’m almost there, though, and I’ll finally be able to move on to Writing Down the Bones by Natalie Goldberg. By the time I’m done with that, I am sure I will have had my fill of writing advice for a while, and I’ll return to fiction.

Watching Narcos on Netflix. I was watching The Fall which sounded very promising (plus I have a serious lady crush on Gillian Anderson *drools*) but the ending royally pissed me off. I can’t even talk about it right now, ugh. Narcos, on the other hand, is excellent. Don’t watch The Fall, watch Narcos instead.

Feeling a little lost now that NaNoWriMo is over. I worked so hard and accomplished this amazing feat, and I look around, and the world is still spinning the way it always has and the people around me are still doing the same things they always do. I guess I feel like I didn’t actually accomplish anything. Not really. I suppose that’s just a reminder that while I got through step one, there are many many more steps to go. Sigh.

Needing the next couple of weeks to just came and go quickly and easily. The best part of working for a school district is getting all the time off that the kids get. Two weeks off for Christmas feels so, so good. My plan is to write of course but I’ll more than likely end up sleeping in and binge watching more Netflix.

Loving my lady. She’s pretty awesome, and I’m so lucky to get to know her and have her in my life. I almost feel guilty, listening to my friends talk about their relationship woes and how harsh, and scary, the dating world is but then I remember that relationships aren’t easy either and it’s taken a lot of painful self-examination to get to where we are, 14 years and counting! I don’t feel guilty anymore, I feel proud, of both of us.

Hating Donald Trump.

Hoping December will be a month of preparation and planning so that 2017 can start off on the right foot. I want this next year to be a year of feeling, for the first time, that I am a real writer. I want to find a community to belong to, to write for, to be encouraged by. I want to feel the validation that comes with receiving a real life monetary payment for the words I work so hard to string together.


I started a weekly-ish newsletter on life, love, and suffering. You can sign up here: (:

The inspiration for this post comes from Andrea at Create.Share.Love.

Featured image via Unsplash

If We Were Having Coffee // I’m Looking Forward to Christmas this Time

Hello, dear readers. Thank you for stopping by for a quick chat and a cup of warm coffee with me. The weather is chilly today, and earlier we had some flurries. It seems winter may have shown up late but it is here to stay now.

This past week was a hectic one—I had to work some, I had to write a lot, and I had to see family—but I was glad the holiday passed without too much stress. Normally this time of year is hard for me. The pressure and stress of it all are usually more than I can handle but this year feels different. I’m looking forward to Christmas this time.


If we were having coffee,  I would tell you that I won’t get to visit with you very long this week. I have so many words that need writing if I want to be able to meet the NaNoWriMo 50,000 word goal on time. I’m sitting at just under 35,000 words, and if I can manage 4,000 a day for the next four days, I can make it. I hope to write 5,000 by the end of tonight.

I haven’t looked over what I’ve written so far. Not much anyway, except to expand or add dialog to boost my words counts. I know it is all a pile of shit. A steaming pile that I will need to dig through and see if there are a few gems I can salvage and use in the book that I hope to write eventually.

After November I plan to take a break from it all and start on a new project. I’ll tell you more about that next week.


If we were having coffee, I would tell you that my Thanksgiving was nice and quiet, just the way I had hoped it would be. My girlfriend and I spent the morning and the early afternoon at home. We had brunch with mimosas and stayed in our pajamas as long as we could. Afterward, we went to my mother’s for dinner and drinks. My littlest sister and my brother and his family were there. We ate plenty and had a really good time.

I’ve mentioned it before, but I’m not a big fan of Thanksgiving and this year, in particular, the holiday feels empty and wrong. The clashing of Native protesters and police over the Dakota Access Pipeline has been a much-needed reminder of the ways this country still oppresses and silences its people.

It’s a much-needed reminder of how awful it is to celebrate a holiday which mischaracterizes the relationship between the early settlers and the Natives. It’s a much-needed reminder that we are not so different nor have we made as much progress as we’d like to believe.


If we were having coffee, I would tell you that this weekend was a bit of a dull and lonely one. My girlfriend spent the weekend with her mother. They went up to the mountains for gambling and drinks in celebration of her mother’s birthday. Gambling isn’t my thing, I had writing to do, and our dog needed looking after, so I stayed home.

I spent the time cleaning, trying to write, and watching way more Netflix than was good for my productivity and creative mind. I didn’t sleep well, and I hardly ate so even now I am struggling to stay awake and do the things I need to do.

I’ve only slept alone a handful of nights since we moved together over 14 years ago and when she isn’t here I can’t even lay in our bed. The house doesn’t feel so big anymore, and my mind isn’t quite so loud. Being alone is hard for me, and I am very glad she is back home.


If we were having coffee, I would tell you that before my lady left for the weekend, she did surprise me a movie date. We saw Arrival, which good but also surprising, intense, and emotional and I highly recommend it.

We went to a very late showing, to a theater we used to spend a lot of our time in. We snuck in a flask of blood orange vodka and pockets full of movie candy. We giggled and acted like young teenagers. We kissed and cuddled and felt young again. It was a perfect movie date. Like all the ones she used to take me on when we were getting to know one another and deciding whether or not to begin our lives together.


If we were having coffee, I would tell you that I had better get going. If I don’t start writing a few scenes or putting my characters through some pain and anguish, I’ll be very disappointed in myself. If I get disappointed in myself, I will have a hard time staying motivated and hopeful. I’ll give up.

So, I must go, but I am so glad we’ve had this time. If you have a moment drop by the comments and let me know how you have been, how your holiday was, and how your own projects are faring.

Until next time :)

My new favorite mug 😊

A photo posted by Lisa Blair (@zenandpi) on


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