It’s a running joke among writers.  We simply write what the voices in our heads tell us to.  
I also have this thing called a vivid imagination.  It often takes snippets of conversations or single events and creates entire stories around that simple kernel of truth.  Work In Progress is a result of my imagination, but it’s drawn from my own desires.  For years, I wanted to walk into my former place of employment and say “That’s it! I’m out of here.  Thanks for the ride.  I’m off to be …

I started taking things off the walls, and clearing out my desk, and the more I put in my boxes, the more excited I became. Before too long, my secretary Alicia had come to the door to ask what was going on.

I am always trying to figure out how to end my stories.  A twist here, a turn there, or a happily ever after. Except that sometimes, the end is not the end.  Just like life.  It’s the end for that day, that moment, or that episode.  But the characters will be back.  And something silly, fun, amazing, stupid is sure to happen to them.  And as their creator, it’s my job to make sure that everything is well documented.  
I guess this is sort of an advance warning to the …

I am a writer, reader, and avid movie goer.  And I love to see a movie on opening day.  I don’t want anyone’s opinion in my ear before I see a much anticipated flick.  So, this afternoon, I am going to see Twilight, along with my Diva Friends and the Divas In Training (The Man’s niece, my daughter, and my daughter’s friend).  I am so excited.  
My daughter introduced me to the series, and I in turn, told my book club about it.  
I love a good story- in all …

I had decided to kill Adrienne as soon as I left the restaurant. I just couldn’t believe I let her talk me into a blind date on the first Saturday night that I had to myself in the last three weeks. I was perfectly fine with my original plans for that night: curl up on the sofa and watch the three weeks worth of television that I missed while traveling. All of my favorite shows were awaiting patiently in the microchip that is my digital video recorder. But noooooo, instead of getting my R&R on, I was wasting precious time and energy trying to not fall asleep as the Urban Narcissus sitting across from me droned on and on.

“Mama, we need to talk about sex.”
Startled by her daughter’s decree, Maria swiveled her desk chair around to face her Mini Me.
“Hey honey, that’s not how you greet your mother when you get home from school. What about, ‘Hi, Mom, how was your day?’”
Ashley dropped her backpack and walked over to give her mother a hug.
“Sorry Mama. That Chanel just mad me mad on the bus, so I told her I was going to ask you as soon as I get home.”
“Ask me what, Baby?” Knowing Ashley …

I am a voyeur.  OK- not in the real sense of the word.  But I do pay attention to how people interact when they are out in public.  I watch how a mother interacts with her child in Target.  I notice if the couple seated across from me and The Man at dinner are engaged in conversation or simply in their own separate worlds, yet sharing a table.  I pay attention to how Diva In Training converses with her friends on the phone.  I notice how each of my Diva …

is ticking so loudly.  It’s kind of driving me crazy because I am aware of it, but it is also providing a backdrop of sorts.  
Rhythm, but no music.  
It’s the middle of the week, what do you want from me?

Weekends are family time (unless there is a dire work situation going on- and let’s face it- that doesn’t happen too often when you have no agent or publisher.  LOL).  That is what I declared when I started consulting and writing.  I didn’t want my daughter and The Man to feel like it is never about them.  So, I tend to stay off the computer (unless we are all on our computers- which does happen occasionally- sigh.  But at least we are all in the same room.). 
Until Monday morning.
When I …

This weekend, the home office was actually completed.  Seriously.  All items in said room were sorted into three piles:  keep, Goodwill, trash.  Lots of stuff went to trash.  Lots of stuff went to Goodwill.  The rest managed to find a happy home in the office.  
But, here is the good part.  I was all set to use a small, unattractive little computer desk that is currently used to house books, magazines, receipts (yeah- my sophisticated filing system), and clothes. I had no plans to buy something new.  I did realize …