Why Getting a Literary Agent is Harder Than Writing the Book

Currently doing some prep work for a potentially career-changing event taking place tomorrow, and I find myself thinking about the road I have been on the past few… hmm… let’s call them years.

Yeah. Years.

And that’s the road going from someone with a completed, porcelain-polished manuscript sitting in a cabinet to getting that shiny lil’ peach onto bookshelves and into Kindle libraries from here to Pluto (not a planet but should be).

Specifically: getting a literary agent. Continue reading “Why Getting a Literary Agent is Harder Than Writing the Book”

Eating and Dreaming Chapter 1

Disclaimer:  The following is a rough (very) draft of the first chapter of a book I wrote when I was 21. It is about how I lost 265lbs.  Be as openly critical as you’d like, as it is still a WIP.

So Good in Blue

Humans have this silly inclination to remember the things that hurt and embarrass us with stunning clarity. The small pieces of everyday happiness getting us from the “mom I wet the beds” to the “Sorry I’m busy Fridays” that market our adolescent existence grow dim until they’re ill-remembered or simply forgotten. We dwell on the negative. Unhappiness begets pain. Pain begets clarity. Here’s something I remember from my senior year of high school that no matter how much more weight I lose, or how accepting of myself I become, I’ll take with me to the stones.


Her name raged through my brain like wildfire. I liked her, and for some strange reason—through the tattered teen grapevine—I learned she might, perhaps, possibly like me back. High school, being the place of constant speech and little action, is less about Continue reading “Eating and Dreaming Chapter 1”

When This is All We Know

So here I am.

Not sure where to start, or if I even have. I’m trying to learn to open my mouth less, and by doing so, say more. “Don’t speak unless it improves on the silence” and all that.

It has had mixed success, really. I tend to be someone who plays with words, who dallies and experiments, meandering with meaning until I fall upon the right prose. I chew upon phrases, enjoying the taste of the perfect combination as they fall from my lips–as seldom as that may be. More common, far more often than I would enjoy, I simply embed my foot so firmly in my mouth that it takes months to extricate it, regardless of intention… all while simply searching for the right thing to say.

Continue reading “When This is All We Know”