Hi loves, I hope this message finds you well and enjoying your summer. It's been an incredibly busy time for my family. We've traveled, hosted beloved guests, celebrated the end of school, and attended several fun-filled events. In fact, our frenzied pace doesn't show signs of slowing any time soon. I'm writing now from the skies, on my way to Santa Fe to celebrate my mother's 70th birthday. One of a few more celebratory trips scheduled for the next month. In between the big shiny happenings of the summer, I've been revising a novel, helping friends with their writing projects, and considering next steps in my own creative career. Not all of this has been easy. You might remember that I signed with my first agent in March 2017. It was a thrilling and joyous experience. I'm still grateful for the energy and hope that opportunity sparked. Unfortunately, our relationship didn't work out and I chose to terminate my contract this past week. It was a dif
(Posted this first on social media, but I'd like to keep it here too.) One year ago was the last day of school for our kids and the first real day of isolation for our family. It's hard to measure what's been lost in a year. Countless gatherings with friends and family. Trips. Hugs. Music and theater and restaurants and festivals and conferences. Celebrations. Jobs. Relationships. Ability to focus. And more than any of this, lives. Real lives of real people who we lost during this global tragedy. My heart truly aches for everyone who endured grief, illness, or other sorrow. Here in Seattle, I'm slowly beginning to feel some change for the better. I know more than a few folks who are already vaccinated (though it seems like it might be months before members of my household qualify). Our schools are also reopening (with massive modifications and precautions in place). But before we rush ahead, I'm counting the gifts of this past year too. More time with my family and
Hello loves, I haven’t posted here since March. I’ve been away from this space primarily because, for most of the pandemic, I wasn’t writing at all. I was, like most of us, figuring things out, taking care of myself and my family, trying to find new ways to connect with friends, trying to make sense of, well, all of it. I attended protests and zoom meetings and sent angry letters. I voted. I slept poorly. I have a few friends who’ve been able to be creative and productive during this difficult time, but for me, writing slipped away as I focused on other means of survival. I’ll be honest and say that this lack of writing took its toll. There were other, much deeper and personal losses too, but I think it was mid-November when I realized that I needed to start writing again because I’d lost touch with a sacred part of myself. I want to acknowledge many loving people in my life who helped me recognize this. Sirens, a conference on gender and speculative fiction (this year on Zoom) helped
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