X/@/20X÷ Today the puppeteer cut my strings. Then he left without a word. It feels strange to move my arms on my own. I opened every plastic pickle jar in the dollhouse, just to try them out. The pickles inside were frozen in clear acrylic. I always imagined it being liquid. My body is mine for the first time, but it doesn’t feel like it yet. Tomorrow, I’ll get scissors and a dotted line painted all down my arms. That way if anyone else ever wants to string me up again, they know I’ll … Continue reading Puppet and Master by Karris Rae →
I was working with a new client who had come to me because she said she hated her writing life. As I sat with her on Zoom and asked her questions about her writing, I watched her face change as she described how she used to feel about writing when she was much younger, and how she felt about it now. She looked troubled, and sad. And also confused. Why was writing so hard for her now? she asked. She didn’t understand why it felt like pulling teeth to sit down and crank out five … Continue reading When Writing Isn’t Fun Anymore by Lauren Sapala →
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