When she’s not busy snacking, that is. And sometimes during. — Honestly, I tend not to reference myself in the third person — as though I am some omnipresent narrator observing myself from a faux leather recliner somewhere, a bowl of sweet and salty popcorn perched in my lap. To me, that would be like commentating the life of a parallel…

An Em-cyclopedia review — “Because I was born to. I need to. It sustains my soul. Because I love it, I enjoy it, it’s a good time. Because I have things to say, tales to tell, I have stories swirling inside my head. Because it’s interesting, it’s creative, there are a lot of avenues…

A poem about the Titanic — People aren’t things, they’re beings. And April 15th did not let them be. But today we examine the perspective of “things.” Did they suffer too? Let’s see: A window can only show an iceberg — but not the damage it can do. …

If you think that headline’s depressing, read this. — Peace. That’s where my uncle’s at. That’s what they keep saying, anyway. “He’s at peace now. He’s resting in it.” And that’s great, I’m sure it’s nice there — but it’s not home. It’s not here, with us, his family, his loved ones and his local football stadium. He’s not…

An Em-cyclopedia Review of the Letter “X” — X. The Roman numeral for 10, the signifier of pirate treasure on a map, the way you sign a polling card, and what your Aunt Linda sends half a dozen of in every text message: “Love you bab! Your brother’s a knob tho xxxxxx” But what the hell does it…

This week’s letter is “Y” — for you — You. Who are you? Who am I? Who are you? I’m a writer. Okay. What else? What…what do you mean what else? What else are you? Who else are you? I’m a writer. And… And a sister. And… Annnnnnnd…a ferret owner. … And a subscriber to The New York Times. …

Death really puts life into perspective, don’t it? — My uncle could die any minute now. I was with him two days ago, sitting with him, watching Friends with him (our favourite show) and holding his hand: for the last time in my life. He couldn’t speak. He could barely open his eyes. His whole body had shrunk several…

This Week I’m Chattering About “Z” — for Zeugma — Writers love writing. Writing words. Words formed by letters. All 26 of them, when written in the English language. Letters which are strung together in a definitive sequence that we know and love as the alphabet. And I’m a writer. Writing about writing. Using words. With letters in. So I…

This one’s for the immortality of the writerly folk — As a writer, you’ll know: with every word that you write, that’s several months shaved off your life. Our occupational hazard is the occupation itself. …