The Social Porcupine

Mirror + feet selfie with my two littlest sisters.  June has been one of those months that's been packed full of plans, most of which I managed to complete despite all the curve balls life threw into the mix. Fun and exciting, if not somewhat stressful and very exhausting. The major-minor disappointment: My novella did not make it as a finalist in ACFW this month ;/ But I was happy for its month of being a semi-finalist. Now onto the fun things: I MET UP WITH SOOOO MANY BLOGGER FRIENDS AND DID A TON OF HIKING!    Erudessa from The Flowering Vales  and I first met through a knitting forum site called Ravelry.com. We eventually started writing letters and sending packages to one another ... and finally, since we only lived four hours apart, my family went up to see hers. We both have tons of kids—they liked to get onto us for having one less than they ;p—but we had tons of fun. I've since been up several times to see them, usually with another sibling. But the be

My favorite postcard, sent from my Dad to me when he was in Guatemala when I was nine years old.  Most of the time I've VERY forgiving when people mispronounce/ misspell my name. Actually, I'm usually surprised when someone gets my name right ( if they don't know me). I expect people to say my name a good fifty times before remembering it, and I don't expect strangers to ever remember how to spell my name. I mean, I think it'd be unfair of me to be otherwise with such a name as I have.  None of this is to say that I don't like my name. I love my name. But I also know that my name is not common, and as a result, the reality is that my name will be difficult for many.  All that being said, I do love giving people a hard time about my name, especially if I like you ;)  Maybe it's cruel, but I find it funny how people slaughter my name and then become flustered. The only times I get slightly annoyed is when people misspell my name through FB me

I've always written stories, and have almost always had the dream that everyone would love my stories. I had a rude awakening, though, when I became serious about my writing and started researching. It came like this:  "Know your audience ... it can't be everyone." " Stick to a genre, and be true to it ... you can't write everything. " "There will be people who hate your book. That's okay. It's not written for them."  "Know the market, know the books like yours. Your book is not unique." And so I was told to narrow my dreams to a niche of people. You can imagine how depressing that was for me.  For a time.  You see, all these book beliefs are centered around people's desire to be labeled . Humanity likes everything organized and defined. We like to make charts and statistics, to better source our income. Even as writers who say we write for God when it comes down to it, we allow ourselv

I used to think all feelings, except happy feelings, were evil. And then even some of those happy ones were just a bit too much, too. Tears, even joyful ones, were immature. Being too expressive was foolish. I believed emotional people were unstable and thus unable to clearly rationalize. But then I broke. For two straight months, I couldn't think. The sudden onslaught of inward pain numbed me and my body reacted by going into shock from exposure to foreign feelings I'd once refused to know. And for that short time I didn't care about what I'd once thought of emotions—they owned me and all reason and logic were gone. But as my senses slowly returned, I hated myself for giving in to the emotions that gripped all of me. I'm not sure how I would have got through it if a couple of my friends hadn't told me over and over that, it was okay to grieve. With my friends support, I let myself feel my way through those dark months and I let my brain just die for

I have two writing/ computer user product reviews today; one for your hands, and the other for your eyes.  I first heard of  SOJOS  glasses through a friend sharing about how much she loved them. I was interested in blue light glasses, and their page looked fun, so I followed them. I had previously bought a pair of blue light glasses . But I never wear them because they fall off my face. They also weren't as pretty as Amazon made them look to be. But my biggest dislike about them was that they had 1x strength, and it hurt my eyes more to wear them to not wear them. Well, I kept seeing these gorgeous glasses in my Instagram feed for months (because I followed them ;p) and one night I decided to message them and ask if they'd give me a pair for review on my blog. They sent me two pairs, of my choosing.  I had to order them on Amazon, send them my order information, then they refunded me. It took less than a week for the glasses to arrive.  It's hard to tel

“Are you sure you are up to the party tonight?” Carl asked as he helped Susan into her coat. They had returned to Susan’s house to ready for the party. Susan felt much better, though she was careful to look into no mirror. “A party always lifts my spirits.” Susan poked at Carl. “Of course I won’t miss your aunt’s party.” “You know, we could just stay here and sit by the fireplace reading or knitting like old people.” Susan puckered her lips, though she kissed Carl’s cheek. “Carl, I don’t ever plan to be like an old woman and I don’t intend to do so now. Besides, the only books in this house are stuffy odd things that belong to my brothers.” “Ah,” Carl said, as if understanding just what Susan meant. They left the house and pushed through the wind that now really did think it owned the evening. Thankfully, Carl had pulled the top down over the automobile, and they were warm as they drove to the Bryant’s residence. Already, many people were at the party. A butler stood a