It Was Sad And Fierce

I'm Probably A Lot Closer Than Perhaps The Contents Of My Early Fiction Suggest To A Jaded Denny's Waitress With Smoker's-lung-black Humor Than A Ghost Hunter.

I Hope That In My Thirties I Grow As A Writer, Push Into New Territory.

My Backyard Was Replete With Madness, It Just Grew Indigenously In South Florida.

My Older Sister Has Entire Kingdoms Inside Of Her, And Some Of Them Are Only Accessible At Certain Seasons, In Certain Kinds Of Weather.

People Really Get Myopic As They Get Older. We're Not A Culture That Encourages Dreaming Or Distraction. We're Not Ever Good At Just Being. I Remember Reading Some Adrienne Rich Quote Where She Talks About How Important It Was Just To Watch Bubbles Rise In A Glass.