A couple weeks ago we picked up a little girl, a second grader, to take to a kids’ program at our church. I had all four of mine with me, and we went to Wendy’s to eat. They laughed and chatted about all kinds of things. As we gathered up our trash, she asked my oldest, “Why are you different?” …
I. Have. A. Blog.
To most writers, those four words would be fun. Exciting even. To me, they’re unnerving. Intimidating. I write fiction for a reason. For one, I don’t have to write about myself. I write about characters I have created, and I design them exactly the way I want them. They are as nasty or kind or insecure or silly as I …