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Though I’m always hesitant to give literary advice, I would like to make a modest request to authors of fiction. Please, give us something that’s more.

A lot of fiction is like stale cookies or mediocre pizza, satisfying to people who’ll take sugar, cheese and pepperoni in any form.  I can never understand why, when it’s not required, some will read a book all the way through, then acknowledge it was terrible. Like, “That pizza was really bad.” Belch. I guess they’re hungry.

People read fiction to have an experience–thrilling or horrifying or romantic, and hopefully satisfactory. Guess what, some also read fiction to be enlightened. When I read fiction, I like to learn something.

I’m told more people read non-fiction than fiction. To them, fiction may seem frivolous, unconnected to real life ambitions and concerns.

In truth, the best fiction offers an entertaining experience along with insight, so it’s possible to learn more about ourselves and others, about events, cultures…

I’m a little late posting this (darn strep throat!). I was contacted by the American Recall Center and asked to write about my health hero — that person in my life that inspires me to lose weight. That was a little tough for me, as I have lots of support from friends and family.

Two Top Contenders
At first, the honor went to my good friend Elizabeth, my biggest cheerleader for the last 2 years. She’s always let me bend her ear about major food failures and workout successes. Also, she’s undergoing her own fitness and health journey, so it was easy to share my goals and concerns with her. She’s also working overtime to get me to do a Disney half marathon with her (need to get that 5K under my belt first). And though she lives on the opposite coast, she’s always ready with much-needed sage…

Just signed the tax forms. Where it said “occupation,” I put “writer,” but only because THIS wouldn’t fit:

“I take those stupid fb tests, you know, the ones where you’re supposed to find out which ’80s action hero you are (John McClane), or which Harry Potter character you are (Hermione, duh!), or which famous writer is your soulmate, even though she’s dead and you’re not a lesbian (Virginia Woolf) or which kick-ass character you are from a TV series (RIVER SONG, alias Harmony Pond.  I get to marry The Doctor, who, by the way, has also kissed me mum).”

You know what else wouldn’t fit under “Occupation”? This:

“I turn sentences around. That’s my life. I write a sentence and then I turn it around. Then I look at it and I turn it around again. Then I have lunch. Then I come back in and write another sentence. Then…

Image courtesy of Stuart Miles and FreeDigitalPhotos.net

Is it me, or is today’s modern food science all crap?

Yesterday I found an  article which addressed seven foods, specifically. These seven foods were considered healthy long ago, then deemed bad for us, and now healthy for us to eat again. I’m glad the article dispels the myths about these healthy foods, of course.  But it bothers me that it doesn’t address why, over the last 50 years, these foods fell out of favor in the first place.

I’m debating if I should spend $75-$100 for swimwear now or wait until April. Thanks to my knee injury I’m limited on the workout front. My doctor suggested adding swimming into my rotation. I got excited about the prospect of hitting the pool, but then my practical side kicked into high-gear.

I own 3 swimsuits. None fit.

New clothes is both the exciting and annoying part of losing weight. It’s awesome to fit into smaller sizes but replacing your wardrobe isn’t a cheap proposition.

Yes, I can buy swimwear now, but part of me doesn’t see the point since my goal is to weigh under 200 pounds by the end of April. That means what I buy now won’t fit by early spring.

I can still do my spin and yoga classes.  So it’s not like I’m not working out, right? Yet I get the nagging feeling that swimming would…

“It is our wits that make us men.” Braveheart

I was supposed to get on here and rant about characterizations, or even tell one of my stories since I have a good one.. but.

I’m in one of those moods again.

When I started this whole gig I didn’t call myself a writer. Even after being published the few times, I only dabbled. The label “Author” brings to mind the likes of Stephen King and not yours truly so I stuck with mumbling, “I write sometimes, yeah, sorta, no big deal.” And I still do.

Often times, I look in the mirror and ask myself questions. What? I get the best advice from that chatterbox on the other side. She is smarmy but talks long enough that eventually she says something of value.

My question: Why do I do this?

If I am a barely there writerish person who…