My Cardboard Balcony

Got to see my sister perform in a play adaptation of Jane Austen's Persuasion. It's always really special to witness the talent of someone who happens to share my DNA. My sister is extremely good at what she does, and I very much envy her ability to truly become a different person onstage. She is, truly, an amazing actress. Sometimes, in the midst of my writing and my schoolwork, I really do miss acting. I sincerely hope that I will be able to commit to certain projects that will allow me to go back to my theater roots. I even had a great conversation with the director of my sister's play about writing drama fit for baby boomers to perform in, given their population. Heck, maybe I can create an LGBT-oriented drama or comedy with middle-aged characters. We'll see. For now, I do have to focus on my teaching credential and my writing. I'll put up another official update on NaNoWriMo tomorrow, and I have two large projects due for my teaching credential later this w

Better Than Mead by Belinda Roddie Crisp, cool, and refreshing. Another pint of sheep's blood, please.

"Who said she was just sick?" roared Wendy. "She's delirious! She counts the cracks in the walls from her bed! She keeps talking about birds made of snow in the window! Either her fever is worse than the doctor measured, or she's gone completely out of her mind!" The yelling disturbed Sarah, who whimpered and hid behind my thigh.