If I could, I would quit Real Life and write all day.

Of course, I can't. As such, I just whine about how much I'd like to.

I live for pretty prose accompanied by a compelling plot and set of characters. I am overwhelmed by the vastness of the
English language at times. Clever wording makes me joyous.

Chances are, there are about fifteen things I ought to be doing at any given
point. 95 percent of the time, I am not doing any of them. Don't
ask me how that works out, but it does.