Even though I don’t plan on having kids, I’m fascinated by parenting methodology, strangely enough. Maybe that’s because I’m fascinated by the brain, and child psychology is kind of the basis of ALL psychology, since children… you know… grow up.
That’s why I was drawn to this month’s nonfiction, “Nurtureshock,” which digs into parenting techniques that are actually counter-productive to the way humans operate. This book was so packed with interesting info that I couldn’t not make this post crazy long, but hopefully you find it interesting too!
It’s been just over a year since this crime/suspense story was published by The J.J. Outre Review, so to celebrate, I’m reprinting it here. Hope you like it! But be warned, it’s um… not exactly family-friendly…
Okay friends. We need to talk about something that’s been bugging me a long time. I CAN’T EVEN COUNT– hold on, this feels like something I need a proper soapbox for.
Hm, looks like I don’t own an soapbox. I’ll just stand on my desk, then. This will make typing hard but I will do it, in the name of justice.
I CAN’T EVEN COUNT how many back-of-book blurbs I’ve read in which the only mentioned female character is described as ~beautiful~ and nothing else.
While all my writer friends are hunched over notebooks and computers, bustling and toiling, penning lines and crumpling them up, or even just jotting down ideas, I’ve been over here… not… doing that.
Since finishing my novel in December, the last creative writing I did (excluding blog posts, which are more article-y or journal-y than creative, um, -y) was a 1000-word fiction in March, that I didn’t post because I’m submitting for publication. Oh, and those one-line stories I did in April, if those count. Otherwise… *crickets*