The runaway writer, making every day an adventure.
These last couple of weeks have been crazy. Crazy good.Let's see, it started with a trip to the dermatologist. I had a spot on my leg that had gotten weird. I wasn't too concerned - no, that's not true - I was a little worried, but I guess that's normal. Karen, urged me to make... Continue Reading →
The next night the gift came in the form of a fireball shooting nun celebrating her retirement from St. Bernard's at Lipstick Lounge.
My mother, although a huge fan of my words, occasionally, over the years, made her longings known for my writing to take a turn: “I wish Suzanne would write something that could be printed in the Ladies’ Home Journal.” Translation: “sweet—not dark and violent and disturbing.”
Before long, his soft, mossy shell was hard again. It almost sparkled under his sunlamp-my little nieces, my brother's three girls, thought it looked like gold and asked if he was magic. I thought so.
I met a boy. Another underage kid with some detailed, well done tattoos. He was sixteen, but big for his age. With his height and his tattoos he could easily pass for eighteen - or twenty, but when he smiled at me he looked like a little boy. A kid. He was nervous so I... Continue Reading →
This week’s blog is dedicated to Chad Wilkerson. I met Chad at Suzi’s, the coffee shop inside the hospital where I used to work. I knew the second I saw him he was an interesting guy. I never minded waiting in line when Chad was working because he is so fun to watch interact with... Continue Reading →
I hadn't intended to write a blog about my dogs this morning, but poor Moe is feeling puny today. I thought he was better, after a messy Monday, and a normal Tuesday. His nose is cold and wet, he ate his dinner last night like always - fast and furious, so when he woke me... Continue Reading →
He was broke and broken down, he said. "I didn't even have money to stay at a cheap motel, I was going to sleep in my truck. I was banking on winning enough money to get back home on."
