What could a pair of Disney princesses and the COO of Facebook have in common? In a Venn diagram of girls and words, of rebellion and equality, there’s more overlap than you’d imagine.
Tag: lisa ahn
Writing Life: Fear and Writing (Agents and Critics and Commas, Oh My!) by Lisa Ahn
Last month, I broke a promise to my husband. It was a vow we’d made together, many years ago, when we swore we’d never pass our bad habits to our kids.
The Writing Life: Oh, For the Love of Cats by Lisa Ahn
Inscrutable, blasé, they are uninterested in deadlines, tangled plots or characters who have fallen out of line.
The Writing Life: Cutthroat, For the Love of Words by Lisa Ahn
As a writer and a reader, I’m a scavenger of words, their roots sunk deep in time. I dig through layered meanings, brush the ragged edges of long-forgotten definitions, frilled and feathered connotations.
The Writing Life: Ebb and Flow by Lisa Ahn
A good day writing is like a high tide, full to bursting with the motion of ideas. On those days, I scribble madly, relishing the depths, the fluid grace of words.
The Writing Life: Life with a Writer 101 — Oh My! by Lisa Ahn
I am a wretched juggler, often late and usually forgetful. But, for all the balls I drop while writing, my husband and my kids are still my cheering squad, my pit crew, and my refuge.
The Writing Life: Patterns in the Splatter by Lisa Ahn
Once upon a long-ago, I hurled high school algebra against the wall. It’s the only time I’ve ever thrown a book.
The Writing Life: On Mermaid Hands and Bezoar Stones by Lisa Ahn
One of my favorite bits of advice for writers is to “write the book you’d like to read”. In that case, I’ll write wonder chambers, cabinets of curiosities. I like books that question the placement of dividing lines, books that throw me unexpected curves.
The Writing Life: There’s No Porn Here by Lisa Ahn
True confession? I’ve never been a porn star. I’m not even a good dancer.
The Writing Life: Show and Tell by Lisa Ahn
Show and tell is theater. As writers, we can’t help but love it. Like children, we harbor indeterminate, odd wonders. The idea that slips inside a pocket. The fringe of inspiration. We collect words like talismans – tessellation, shambolic, caducity – and cup them in our palms.