A little kid wearing a fake moustache and glasses while his mother looks on.

Accepting Who I Was Allowed Me to Change My Life

For the longest time, I kept a secret from everyone, including myself. I always wanted to be a writer but felt that sweeping it under a rug would allow me to be happy. I was so wrong.  Don’t you sometimes wish there was a chance to go back and rewrite history? Granted, if that were possible, one would want to give Hitler a wedgie or prevent colonization. But if there really is such a thing as the ‘butterfly effect’, I’d rather start small and just change my own past. Or, at the very least, one teeny tiny decision.  Out of Sight isn’t Out of Mind Our brain is a funny animal. It plays tricks on us all the time. And the way it does that […]

Ernest Hemingway writing at a table.

How to Avoid Procrastination and Write Productively

Not a great way to start your day, I’ll admit. In my defense, I was half asleep when I stepped outside to begin the morning school drop-off. If it hadn’t been for my daughter—bright and alert after an hour of Roblox while I drooled all over the couch in my bid to catch a few more z’s—I would’ve humiliated my Rafa tennis shoes, already relegated to school and grocery runs, with the occasional tennis match thrown in. Thankfully, the danger was averted. Whatever creature made the effort to climb over our motion-detecting gate and then position its posterior on the small, worn-out welcome mat—talk about taking things literally—outside our door to leave its opinion on the sudden change in London weather, has my grudging respect. […]