guest post- how to become a successful author.

I stopped by Addicted Readers to talk a little bit about my writing routine, and how I know when it’s the right time to break it. Write every day. Write for fifteen minutes or a half an hour or as long as you want. Set up a routine and follow through with this routine, because […]

a thank you, a giveaway.

Today marks one month exactly until the release of my first book, THE HALF LIFE OF MOLLY PIERCE. It feels impossible that in just a month, anyone in the world will be able to get their hands on something I made up and wrote down. THANK YOU ALL for your continued support. I feel so […]

in the desert, part one.

It’s been a year exactly since the last time I made the drive to Joshua Tree. S and I  plan to leave early on the day after Christmas, but it’s nearly ten by the time we drag ourselves out of the apartment, stopping for coffee and a picnic lunch before starting  east on our two plus hour […]

three times.

When my mother was younger, she was in a tornado. The thing picked up her car and spun it around and left it upside-down and crushed inward. Or something. Every time she tells the story, some small details change. It’s become a thing uncertain in my mind (and maybe a thing uncertain in her mind, […]

spain in black and white.

I find the rolls of film in a desk drawer. I’ve been moving around a lot- New York to Connecticut to Scotland to Los Angeles- and things are resurfacing. Lost things are being found. Two rolls of black and white film. I think they’re both from Edinburgh and so I’m not in a rush to […]

glow.

In Mexico, at 16, I went on a night dive with my brother. The darkness made me disoriented. It was hard to keep a steady buoyancy. It was hard also not to panic—all that water and all that blackness, stretching out on either side of you like something physical, a tangible barrier, a weight. My […]

hair.

In August my hair starts to grow back. I notice one morning after blow-drying it. My forehead is fringed with a thin layer of new, wispy bangs. There are one-inch strands of hair that start at my temples and curl upward over my cheekbones. I go and get a haircut. This is good, my hairdresser […]

first times.

The first time I ever did laundry, I forgot to put soap in. I realized this when I took the clothes out and they were soaking wet but still dirty. I asked my mom if I had to run them through again and she said yes. I thought maybe the water was enough. The first […]

inspiration.

Inspiration is sometimes hard to come by and sometimes overflowing. I think I figured this out when I was really young but I didn’t know how to articulate it until I was older. Until I was, ostensibly, “an adult,” and could point to myself in times of stagnancy and understand that it’s okay to not […]

the first sentence.

  I lived in New York for four years and never really fell in love with it. There are parts I love, sure, like the Bethesda Fountain and the three archways under the terrace in Central Park. The Audubon Center in Prospect Park. The Green-Wood Cemetery. And there are streets I love, blocks I love, […]