Tag Archives: writing


When Maddison Willows walks back into school a month after her brother’s brutal murder no one is shocked.
Because no one knows.

Not even Maddison.

All they know is that Maddison tried to kill herself. She has the horizontal scars on her wrists to prove it.
But, she didn’t do it.

Only I know the truth, and I intend to keep it that way. Or I had. But something is happening to Maddison, and I keep finding myself drawn to her side. Walking the streets at night in the rain, barefoot. Digging up bones in my front yard. Remembering… I have to make it stop, but it’s starting to look like I don’t know how.

(image from tumblr)

I’ve decided to do NaNoWriMo again this year. This will be my 5th time. I’m looking forward to it, and I love my novel idea. If you’re also participating, please check out my NaNoWriMo Page and add me. Let’s support each other an write a novel in a month!

The Unbecoming of Mara Dyer

I love the trailer for this book. I don’t remember the book being so steamy though.


And I can’t wait for the next one to come out.


I’ve been thinking about this book recently because not only do I love it, but it inspired my most recent novel, which I just re-read for the first time in 9 months. Current plan will reflect my writing process: one play through of ‘The Cults’ will equal one editing session much as it did one writing session back in November when I wrote the first draft. 


They say you never forget your first love. Or is it first heartbreak? Whatever. They’re one in the same for me. And it’s true.

Fair Season Friends



Stars explode in the back of  her eyes, wind whips through her hair,

She looks into a galaxy full of  potential (through windshield from driver’s seat).

Wondering if  she has what she really wanted, turning up the radio, turning,

Grasping at his  arm, telling him to tell her all about it.

He talks about girls  that are not  her, she turns the volume dial again –up.

And she listens as well as that old twisted maple tree doesn’t, laying under it,

Heat stroke, sprawled out  in the sun warmed grass, goodbye.

Get back in the fucking car and drive it faster!

She needs to get out of here, maybe go to Tokyo.

He calls her, morphing her into one of those annoying people who can’t shut up,

Cell phone glued to her ear, can you hear me now? Gooood.

He wants to see her now, again, it’s like going to the doctor, something

She doesn’t want to, but needs to-do.  Scared of the real results.

He pretends that he cares when she really does, but doesn’t want to.


He pretends that he cares when she really does, but doesn’t want to.

At the same time he places her picture back on his shelf

Her smiling face looking down at him, he can she her from anyplace in his room.

He  can smile at her when he’s falling asleep, or over the shoulder of another girl.

They meet up in April, toes stuck in mud as they sit on plastic lawn chairs.

She tells him about a boy that broke her heart and he says he ‘understands’ .

They pause to drink Minute Maid lemonade out of crystal cups and sit in silence.

Kicking it Billy Joel-style, the ice breaks in his glass, moisture on the side.

Speaking together as one, laughing over old jokes, remembering what it‘s like,

Meaning so much to each other, as much as employees at Wal-Mart mean to

Each other, he hugs her, she turns her head, says ‘see ya,’ gone for another month.

Breathing in the sounds of May, sitting in a pool of  sunlight.

She thinks that she’s won this -the second round- a revolution.

Only to have him tell her, later on, how hot she looked.


Only to have him tell her, later on, how hot she looked.

She swears that it’s a different story this time,

A  book written by a different author, that’s the way she sees it.

Maybe snow piled up over her heart, maybe it’s frozen?

Blue tinged brain, her nose wont stop running and her smile is frosted over.

They throw snowballs at each other and put cold fingers down pants.

She swears it’s a punk rock strike!!! this time

Things will go her way or she’ll have someone sign a petition against

Another broken heart, she’ll start smoking Marlboro if she has to!!

She vows to dye her hair black (Herbal Essence style) if she must!

Until he reaches over and rips all of her barriers down,

Just like the snow plow slid through that stop sign — crash.

Taking out the barbed wire fence that was protecting the (empty) playground

Just like the barbed wire fence that was protecting her (full) heart


Just like the barbed wire fence that was protecting her (full) heart.

She listens to him just like she did in the summer,

Two seasons ago seemed so far away, just as far away as the pond

Surrounded by golden leaves, sitting behind the house that they slept in.

Her parents gone for the weekend, his smooth talking convincing her;

Break the rules, like the one kid from Malcolm in the Middle.

Crying for weeks after he left her again, breaking CDS that remind her.

Saying fuck it all and reading a book, then writing a book, about a

Girl who was better than herself, a girl who broke boys hearts,

Then meet one that was better than all the rest (him). Special dedication.

She called the book Reluctant Hero: never wanted responsibility

But takes it on because [he] must.

She sent  him a copy, he read it and loved it.

He finally called her and apologized for real. He finally said

What she wanted to hear all along, words that she couldn’t accept anymore.