September Snow is a chunky dark churn of Into the Wild by Jon Krakauer and the horrid pressures of being caught in an avalanche. It is one man doing his best to survive and failing. September Snow by Misty Warner Available on Amazon: a.co/d/75R8U3f

When real life scratches where imagination fails, you walk in a world like no other.

Don't follow me to the edge of the world. It gets dark where I'm going.

Life lesson I'm just truly beginning to understand: not everybody moves through the world like you do. Sometimes it's okay to be the rock in the river and just let them float on by.

The weeknd comes and I'm off playing in the backyard, chasing the boys around. Going as fast as we can without falling down.

I don't need wishes. I have spit and vinegar. Mixed those two, and I'm unstoppable.

They are at your window, knocking, throwing loose chiclets of themselves, trying to get your attention. Ideas. Characters from your dreams that got tired of waiting in the dark. You ignore them, but they don't fade. Tomorrow they plan to join you for dinner.

Beast mode exists. It's hiding behind the cupcakes and naps and all the complaints about how you don't have time. Dig beyond those, and you got a superpower you can chew like bubble gum.

It was a good deed. And then it went wrong. So wrong that Emmie is left standing on a subway train holding a box of human ashes with no way to return them. Subway Ashes by Misty Warner Available on Amazon: a.co/d/0d9DE979

On this road, lonely, lost, and forgotten. #indieauthor #writers #writerlife #WritingCommunity #amwriting

In school, we folded and passed little notes. At my age, I would not expect to get one. And I certainly wouldn't expect the post office to be able to deliver it. What a wonderful surprise from a younger family member.

I'm a part of two writers groups. In one, I am the oldest person & I am surrounded by people writing in journals, doing outlines, & research, but few are getting words down for a finished product. In the second, I'm pretty much the youngest, & they are polishing & publishing.

In life, I'm not quite like the others and my writing feels the same. Amongst jacket covers and friends, we are the pegs that never quite fit. #indieauthor #writers #writerlife #WritingCommunity #amwriting

They are words, guts, dolls. Tiny trinkets of my imagination that have teeth. #indieauthor #writers #writerlife #WritingCommunity #amwriting

I have a stack of bookmarks. I have bookmarks that are magnets or made out of leather. I use only one and it's about tattered. Yet, I can't resist. It's like taking a cookie out of a cookie jar. #indieauthor #writers #writerlife #WritingCommunity #amwriting

On my nightstand. My Kind of People by Lisa Duffy.

Yesterday, under pity party balloons of pink, I wrote in my journal that no one has ever claimed to love one of my books. And then today it happened. I now have a fan club of one. #indieauthor #writers #writerlife #WritingCommunity #amwriting

I sit, surrounded by writers who went to college, as they go over the concepts for their book. They talk like they're in a social studies class or writing a thesis. As they stare at their outlines, I think to myself, "yeah, but where's the story?" #oddmanout #indieauthor

The book in my backpack and on my nightstand. There's a Word For That by Sloane Taten #indieauthor #writers #writerlife #WritingCommunity #amwriting