Addictionnoun: a kind of coping mechanism: a subconscious way of filling a space or hollow in one's life or heart: an unusually strong desire or fancy for something Have you ever been addicted to something? Ever since I observed how bad my addiction to something can get, I make sure to be careful with what... Continue Reading →
It's an enticing idea. I had the whole scene playing in my head: I walk into a coffee shop with my laptop - or notebook and pen - queue at the counter for a cup of tea or coffee, and take a seat by the glass window. Then I earn a good sum of money... Continue Reading →
This Holy Week, I can’t help but ponder on the shortness of life. After losing some of our loved ones (and dogs) during pandemic, the concept of 'shortness of life’ began to feel very real to me. The truth of it is a hard pill to swallow, but it’s inescapable—someday, you and I will also... Continue Reading →
March 19, Saturday. Our first book reading event was Zoom bombed. It was supposed to be a two-hour literary program with an atmosphere dramatically tuned by stories and cadences. The idea was this: five authors had to choose a portion or chapter of their published memoir and read it aloud while we were aired live... Continue Reading →
It must be the Christmas air, the ever-mutating virus, the hubbub about next year's election, the quotidian monotony, and all else personal that are making you feel burdened and demotivated to work today. But the good news is, you're not alone. Recently, I asked my writing community, Scribblory Writers Group, the used-to-be casual "how are... Continue Reading →
Being hit by the so-called "writer's block" is the worst. It tends to paralyze my writing fingers, followed by the fear that I may not be able to craft words anymore. Not ever. I realized that writing has unpredictable rhythms - muse comes and leaves as it pleases while the block often falls like a... Continue Reading →
We lost our dog to an accident days ago. Since then, I feel like a heavy cloud hangs over my head. Every time the scene plays back in my mind, that cloud bursts with rain, and water streams from my eyes. It's not an easy life. It's also short. Somehow, after we lost Mama late... Continue Reading →
I sit at my writing desk now, pondering on generosity in writing. Recently, my time's been tight with work and I noticed that my head's becoming difficult to set right for writing. I struggle. Specifically, it takes me innumerable deep breaths, several walks to the water dispenser, and looking nowhere and around before I can... Continue Reading →
I always approach the page afraid. I am afraid that once I begin typing the words, I'd see my walls crumble. Then my words would reveal me. This blank page always asks too much, strips me down any cover until vulnerable. But courage is a muscle, they say, and there's no other way to know... Continue Reading →
When we lost our mom, I felt like a tub of ice cream. I know it's a lame metaphor. But I exactly felt this way: The universe scooped a part of me and left there a gaping hole. That scoop can never be replaced, and thus that hole will forever be there. The days after... Continue Reading →
Elaine Marie Factor 