A Slight Tickle
In honor of Halloween this year, I thought I’d share a horror story with you. Well, it was horrific to me, but it may be funny to some of you. When I was 16, I got a job as a…
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On Writing: Thank God for No’s
I’m at a point where I’m going to start querying agents again. I’ve got several picture books (PBs) that are ready to get off my computer and on to a bookshelf somewhere. Last year I printed (I won’t say published)…
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27+ Things I do to Reduce and Reuse
Two weeks ago, the city I live in stopped collecting recycling. There aren’t enough truck drivers, so until 32 people with CDLs get on the payroll, I now have to take all my recycling to the nearest center and sort…
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On Writing: Can You Call Yourself a Writer if You Don’t Get Paid?
This has been a hot topic in the writing community for a long time now – should you call yourself a Writer even if it’s not your day job? I’m not sure if this is even a debate anymore, because…
Keep readingWhen You Can’t Trust Your Own Memory
Shortly before I graduated college, my friend Liz and I went for a hike outside of our town, San Marcos, Texas. There was a riverfront area popular for picnics, grilling, and hiking, but on this Spring day we decided to…
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Little White Lies
Craig suppressed a gag as Martha set the plate of broccoli casserole, her “specialty,” in front of him. “I made your favorite,” she smiled. “And there’s plenty more in the kitchen.” “You shouldn’t have,” he said, subtly leaning to the…
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To the Woman Hiding in the Bathroom Stall
I have been you, many times in my life When I had no one to eat lunch with at my new junior high When I wanted to prove to myself that I was a rebel and I could smoke my…
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Abandoned Spiderweb Still Catches Flies
I only think of you at times when I am too far away to do anything about you – The abandoned spiderweb stretched like a hammock between my ceiling and a door I never close. Sometimes on my way to…
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Legs
I’m never going to forgive u. She hit Send, and as a second thought, quickly typed Hope ur happy. Then, before she could receive a response, she turned her phone off and set it on the bedside table. She closed…
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Ode to a Cold Toilet Seat
My daughter’s hair is slithering down my throat Her flannel nightgown is making me hot, and I’m pretty sure she just farted on me I gently grasp her around her rib cage, about the same width as a rotisserie chicken,…
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Kate the Writer 
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