The runaway writer, making every day an adventure.
I bought Where The Wild Things Are at a scholastic book fair in 2nd grade for my little brother. He was four years younger and my little buddy. I couldn't wait to get home and read it to him. If I played hot wheels with him first, he'd let me read to him for as... Continue Reading →
When I was twelve or so, she is the person that realized I had a little bit of talent and no outlet – except for boys – and bought me my first set of paintbrushes and oil paints. I couldn’t find enough things to paint – nothing was safe, I painted EVERYTHING – even glass. She realized I needed more things to keep me busy – to keep me out of my mama’s hair and out of trouble – so she taught me Sherinschniette
I am very lucky to have the kind of face, or maybe it’s the vibe I give off – or maybe, more than likely, it’s the fact that I am a perpetual eavesdropper who doesn’t even try to hide it. Whatever the case may be, total strangers share some really personal and powerful stuff with... Continue Reading →
I found a hidden treasure at Rock"A"Rosa. I knew it was going to be good because of the artwork on the front. It's subtle, but the googly eyes caught my attention. I'm a sucker for messages hidden in old books, especially text books that belonged to pre-teen or teenage boys. I wasn't disappointed. I noticed... Continue Reading →
People always ask me, "Why are you so happy all the dang time? Do you wake up like that? Are you always so annoying?" And the answer is yes. Especially to the last question. You might be thinking, of course you're happy - you ran away, you idiot. Not everybody's life is all rainbows and... Continue Reading →