Where Do Blogs Go to Die?

When I was a little girl, like many little kids devising big dreams from their little bedrooms, I had those plastic, glow-in-the-dark stars, stuck to my ceiling. We moved around a lot while I was growing up, but in each of my childhood bedrooms, I stuck new stars on the ceiling and watched them glow when…


Writers, be Lonely

A blob of white paint dragged back and forth across a cerulean sky, with a little bit of grey mixed in where the snow line meets naked rock — that’s what I saw when I looked at Mount Hood, a mountain so striking in its stature that it must have been hand drawn on that fake blue backdrop. The way…