Fall Festival

At the very beginning of autumn, while I was still locked up in my house because of allergies, I made a list of all the fun things I wanted to do as soon as I was released from my sneezy cage.

I told you all about this, remember?

We’re definitely skipping the bonfires this year, considering the wildfire that started only a few houses down from us a week ago, but I had so many other things on my list that I’m positive I won’t miss it. And, because I started planning—and scheduling—early, I’ve actually managed to get at least part of the list accomplished!

Starting with a trip to the fall festival with my writer’s group.

It was kind of a crazy trip.

To begin with, we had tickets and plans for the day after the fire at my house. So… I was a little rattled. But determined! We were going to this festival and we were going to have fun if it killed us.It did not kill us, in case you were wondering.

Sadly, the day we decided to go turned out horribly windy, as Colorado is wont to do, but we made the best of it and had a stellar time anyway. It was basically the biggest fall-themed fair in Colorado, with enormous pumpkins and fair food and a corn maze and all of the best things you can possibly think of. We got lost in the corn maze.

More than once.

We’ve officially decided that if we ever find ourselves in an actual maze, I will not be leading the way.

I couldn’t find my way out even if there was only one path all the way through.

It all looks the same, okay? And I’ve always said I have no sense of direction. I get lost in parking lots.

After the corn maze, we went looking for snacks. Because priorities y’all. And, because of my super special fall list, I knew exactly what I wanted.

Hot caramel apple cider.


I’m pretty sure apple cider only tastes good in October. Something about the chill in the air, the pumpkins in the fields, and the yellow leaves.

It was phenomenal, in case you were wondering.

After the snacks, we visited the pumpkin patch, which was absolutely enormous. I’ve never seen so many pumpkins. Think of the pumpkin seeds, think of the pies. It was fabulous.

Did you visit any pumpkin patches this year? Do you plan to? Tell me about it in the comments!

A Phoenix

I got interviewed for a podcast for my job last month.

It was very exciting. I’ve been working as an apprentice scriptwriter for sixteen months now, and they figured it was probably time to ask me some questions. You know, get the scoop about what it’s really like to be a writer for an international radio show. We talked about the hard stuff. The tough topics. What it takes to be a writer in a fast-paced, highly competitive industry.

Not to spoil the interview, but I got asked what kind of magical creature I would be if I was a magical creature.

I was shook. They didn’t even warn me that was coming. I had to think on my feet.

Or, you know, in my closet, since I was sitting with a microphone, two computers, and my phone in my closet during the interview. With a sheet draped over my head.

Because sound quality is essential, y’all.


Frankly, I thought it was a brilliant question, but since I was caught off-guard and trying to keep my phone from disconnecting from the internet and the sheet from smothering me all at the same time, I answered really fast. Way too fast, as it turned out, to actually think about why I picked what I did.

I said a phoenix, by the way. In case you were wondering. Because when asked, who wouldn’t choose to be a mythical bird who bursts into flames at the end of its lifecycle and rises again from the ashes of its own destruction like a glorious representation of new life and continuing hope?

Plus, you get to fly and stuff. And have orange and red and yellow feathers, which are all the colors that I passionately love and cannot wear because of my skin tone. They wash me out. It’s bad.

Know your skin tones, people. Pick the right colors.

But after the interview was over and I crawled out from under my sheet like some kind of tiny gremlin emerging from its fabric lair, I took a little time to think about my choice. Because let’s be real, sometimes your quickest, tip-of-the-tongue, no-time-to-think answers are the most honest. And this one was definitely honest. A kind of deep, soul-touching honest that really struck me way too late for it to be an interesting and intellectual part of my interview.

Rats, right?

So I’m sharing it here instead. Because I am a phoenix. Every writer is. It’s our bread and butter, our rite of passage. Only a phoenix could survive as a writer. Because writing is all about burning to the ground. I’ve seen so many ideas go up in flames in the last year. Ideas, outlines, even scripts. The amount of criticism I take on a weekly—or even a daily—basis would have paralyzed me when I was a teenager. I would have dropped everything and given up.

But I am a phoenix. I watch my stories—and my ego—go up in smoke again and again . . . and again.

And like the phoenix, I rise from the ashes and begin again.

Every writer goes through the flames. You might say it’s an occupational hazard. The first time, the fifth time, even the hundredth time, it’s scary and painful and not what we wanted to do that particular day.

But it won’t stop us. We’ve done this before. We’ll do it again.

Out of the ashes will always come our best work yet.

Writer’s Group and Sabbaticals

img_3662I went on a sleepover this weekend.

My first since quarantine, in fact.

Not that I make a habit of sleepovers. Not since I was like sixteen. Except when I get trapped in town due to crazy snowstorms and six-foot snowdrifts.

But I went on a sleepover this weekend. With my writer’s group—or most of them, anyway. (We love you and missed you, Caylene!) We ate chocolate, read each other’s work, talked about way too many stories, and stayed up until all hours of the night.

Midnight, to be specific.

Ten minutes after midnight, I knocked out.

But we got some writing done, caught up on each other’s projects, and reconnected after being away from each other for months. Kelly’s hair ended up in curlers. She looked amazing. Before and after, actually.

There was talk about pink hair dye.

That didn’t happen, but it would have been pretty exciting.

Now that I’m back home, and spending way too much time writing down all the appointments that I am making for my wedding, I’ve had to take a minute to be realistic about my energy and time right now. So . . . I’ll be on sabbatical until after my honeymoon. See you all October 1st!

On Sabbatical Until October 1st!