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 →
Five lessons you can get from reading memoirs
You are probably aware of memoir's dark reputation in literature. For a long time--stretching to today--the mind of some readers and non-readers has been tainted by stereotypical beliefs such as: "Memoirs are written by narcissists.""Memoirs tell really sad, ugly, traumatizing stories.""There are obscene and illegal truths exposed in memoirs."Although the ditto beliefs may be true... Continue Reading →
Five ways to write good stuff even in bad days
It feels like an impossible task to write good stuff when you're mad, sad, or tomorrow's concerns eat you away. "No good fruit comes out of a bad tree," the Big Book says. Sometimes, you force the words out of you, not minding if you're being hypocrite at the moment. "They won't notice it, anyway,"... Continue Reading →