I know what you’re thinking, and you’re right: this is a cake.
Inspiration, as I’ve been told countless times and experienced many more, can spring from unexpected places. And after not writing on here for a while, it was a cake that inspired me to return and continue to tell my story. Why a cake? I hear you ask – here’s why. Continue reading →
After nearly two and a half years away, I decided to come back to Brazil for a few days to see my family and (hopefully) use my time wisely as a writing retreat, seeing as I’ve been facing a block lately (for those still keeping count: the manuscript is now at 42,018 words). There is no place like Brazil if you’re looking for creativity. Yes, even better than Paris or London. The weather is better here. So watch this space over the next few days.
It was a stuffy December day, and the sun was trying to burn through the cloudy sky.
That Friday before my baby sister’s high school graduation, my father gave The Angry Chef and me a ride to the familiar house on Rua Bastos Pereira. The air still smelled of rain – it had been raining on and off all week. Dad parked his massive silver SUV in front of the white metal gate. The gate looked strange and new; when I was a child, an orange, solid wood slide one had been there instead. I wondered what that gate must have looked like to my mother, as she probably still remembered the short metal fence that stood there before. Continue reading →
For a split-second, everything is darkness. I’m not sure where I am, and need to focus to remember simple, but crucial information: who am I? What is my name? What is the last thing I remember? Do I remember enough to open my eyes and not be dreadfully surprised? Continue reading →
From the title of this post, you probably guessed it, but I’m too excited to hold back, so I’ll tell you anyway:
I made it! I achieved my goal of 10,000 words by today!
It was a horrible day outside, which I think helped matters – what else do you do on a day like this? Winds at 100 km per hour, snow (!) and a fallen tree blocking our garage door. I wrote all morning, and was grateful to The Angry Chef, who not only served me breakfast while I was writing, but who also re-filled my coffee cup whenever it was empty.
I finished work yesterday evening, after an unusually busy week, with only one thought in my mind: go home, and write. Write, write, write.
I left the office, met up with The Angry Chef, and we went home together, chatting away. By the time we got home, I realised I had spent most of my week’s free time writing, and hadn’t really spent much time with my husband. So I’m not ashamed to admit that I didn’t write a single syllable yesterday. Not even on here. Continue reading →
Some more writing done. Ha! Feeling like I’m getting it again. You know you got it again when it’s eight in the evening, and you got home late from work and after works drinks with a colleague you never see, and you haven’t seen your husband all day, and you’re so excited you could kiss your computer screen. Continue reading →