Minutes vs Moments: When Measurements Can Damage Your Storytelling

WHO’S READY FOR ANOTHER PASSIONATE AND NITPICKY POST? This entire post–the whole freaking thing–is sponsored by the word: minutes. I’m not going to give specific titles, as I don’t like being in the business of shaming authors, but there have been more than a few instances where I will be reading a scene and something…

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it’s a living #4

The coffee shop smells sophisticated, expensive, distant. During high school, I spent many weekend mornings here with friends, sipping coffee that technically my parents had paid for, and talking when we were supposed to be studying. It’s weird to be back now, hiding at a corner table with the least pricey drink on the menu…

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it’s a living #3

Trigger warnings at the end. Please take care of yourself.  Anxiety overtakes my bloodstream without permission: the pounding pulse on my wrist traces back to my throbbing heart, the heat on the back of my neck and cheeks is a heat that reminds me that I am not in control, not over my thoughts, not…

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it’s a living #2

“We should get a pet.” Deanna studies the array of nail polishes in front of her, then selects a light blue and holds it up for me to examine. I stick out my hand at her artistic mercy. “I don’t wanna mom you here, but you are definitely not responsible enough for a pet.” “Ridiculous.…

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it’s a living #1

  People who drift into gas stations either have a lot on their minds or nothing at all. They wander through the isles like a wasteland, one lethargic hand reaching out for a bag of chips, one pair of feet stopping in front of the candies, hesitance coloring the Sour Patch Kids Decision. Sometimes I…

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