It wasn’t nearly as awkward as it was supposed to be, making the transition from friends to something. We slid into it so seamlessly that it was hard to refute the voice in my head insisting we’d always had a toe over the boundary demarcating between friendship and something.

Even in my head, it was always “something.”  Words like “boyfriend” and “ ( Read more... )

It was understood that I would do well in school, attend university, graduate with honours and slip seamlessly into a respectably, stable job. I would find a respectable, stable man and we would raise a respectable, stable family together.

These were my parents’ expectations and although we never spoke of them, I understood them.

At least, I ( Read more... )

I’d been driving for about half an hour and although the car had skidded on ice a few times, the drive hadn’t been too bad. But just as I was starting to relax, the drive got really, really bad.

I crept along at about 10km, edging towards the top of a hill. I eased my foot off the gas, hoping that if I crested the hill slowly enough, I wouldn’t ( Read more... )

Doughty says to write as often as possible, even if you don't see how what you're writing can ever go anywhere. I tried it, et voila:

There are two trees outside my bedroom window. Most of the time they're simply a visual phenomenon; the rest of my senses are blind to them. But in the early morning when the sleepy world is slowly waking, before ( Read more... )

 Week two's homework was to read novels, and I did.

In the spirit of tracking my progress through Novel in a Year, here's what I read:

• Boomsday by Christopher Buckley
• Oodles of fan fiction from SG-1 and SVU Land, including some stories that were long enough to be novels
• National Geographic's June edition (Not a novel, I know, but if you can get your ( Read more... )

 The assignment?

Write one sentence, beginning with the words, "The day after my eighth brithday, my father told me..."

( Leave 'em wanting more... )