This post is a letter to my thirteen-year-old self. We all have a lot we could tell our younger teenage selves. Mine certainly needs the advice.
As long as I can write, I will continue to write about mental illness. These are my reasons why.
Editing. A word to strike fear into the heart of many writers. Let’s wallow in our misery by considering why editing is the writing equivalent of pulling teeth.
Finally, here is the post I sometimes wondered if I’d ever be able to write. Yep. I’ve flipping done it. I have a publishing contract!
Just because your work hasn’t been published yet doesn’t make you any less of a writer. Some writing paths are short. Others are twisty and complicated.
Writing slumps are big stinking piles, blocking our writing path. The only way out is to know what’s holding you down. Then you can begin to crawl your way out
Writers are often tired. If these ideas for combating tiredness don’t work, just get into bed. You don’t have to tell me twice *cocoons into the duvet*.
Writers’ block is a block of cement sitting on your typing fingers, weighing heavy on your empty brain. Here I am, once again, with advice. There will be snark.