It Was a Dark and Stormy Night

Here’s the thing about writers. They’re not what you think. Sure, some of them own sweaters with suede patched elbows, or sit at antique desks looking off into the distance while chewing pensively on feathered quills. But not usually. Most writers are like the people I meet at conferences. Vague looking, mostly old, and holdingContinue reading “It Was a Dark and Stormy Night”