RoseThingamajig
They say everyone needs an editor. I think they slow you down and steal your work.
Well, one of them does. Don't sign any piece of paper that has the name "Patricia Dance" on it anywhere. Trust me, it will be the worst decision of your writing career.
Not a snowball's chance in hell, as the saying goes. I feel like we overlook the more important question of, how did the snowball get there? Are we discussing an ice demon in the underworld? Can precipitation die? Does snow have a soul?
I just think we're not thinking this thing through.
Should someone rescue the snowball?
There are many things abundant in life. But they tend to be the worse things in life.
Environmental damage is abundant. Povery is abundant. People are abundant, but not quite abundant enough to solve the first two.
There's no more enlightenment for anyone. The silence is gone.
There is no more sitting under a bonsai and breathing in the quiet. Cars go by.
Monsters live under your bed, of course. Established fact.
But try to show some sympathy - this is actually due to the otherworldly housing crisis. There's a complex political system at work in mirrors, and coincidentally it mirrors ours.
Mortgages aren't so important since monsters tend to wander, but leasing shadows is getting more and more difficult for small monstering families. Bogeymen are the worst landlords, and rents are at an all-time high for dilapidated corners and creaky attics.
Rural means you can see the stars in the night sky, without a hint of smog. Rural means getting a lift to school in the back of a trailer. Rural means knowing your neighbours. Rural means your neighbours knowing you.
And rural means safety, because crime rates are lower. But rural means terror, because country roads are long and winding.
I don't want to be confident. It seems like more trouble than it's worth.
The best seat in the house is the one with a view, not the one closest to the microphone.