General
The little girl and her mother wore identical dresses on the first and only Sunday they went to that church, as her mother called it afterwards. Her mother had located a McCall’s pattern the week before, and she worked day and night to produce two
The manuscript is moving along like a Clydesdale, a big sort of lumbering thing, while I want slick and fast, leopard or cougar like. It’s the plot that’s to blame. I’ve got so much sh– to keep up with, and it’s spread out all over.
It’s the dawn of a brand new year. Fresh, open, a blank page with no history to speak of except the echo of horns, whistles, the flickering points of sparklers, the boom of fireworks and the sounds of people celebrating. A new year is like