I found myself the other day crouched on the floor of a bookstore and was engrossed in a book that advertised itself as therapy for writers or something of the sort. Writer is a word that I find hard to identify with at times even after well appreciated critiques of this project that I am engrossed in. There are many others I am in awe of who I think carry that mantle very well.
But there were many things in this little therapy session I could identify with ( silly me, thinking it was all in my head). This one had me rolling in unexpected laughter that was very much needed at the moment:
Writer's Block: When your imaginary friends won't talk to you.-Unknown
Tompkins fledgling frolicks on a fire escape, then returns to nest tree - The younger of the two Tompkins Square Park hawklets fledged the nest at 2:02pm on Friday, July 13. It spent the night on a fire escape on E 8th Street and...
2 days ago