Thrive: a hero(ine)'s journey

As a measure of how naive/out-of-it/sweet I was at 16, I offer this: it took a really long time before I understood why everyone else in my Sophomore English class referred to our teacher as Master Bates rather than Mister. What did they know that I didn't? Was he from the UK originally or something? 

"Oooooooooh," I realized months later, blushing, "I get it."

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Day 18: down in the mines, spinning

What a profound learning experience is this 30-straight days of writing 1,700 words a day! I am a little jealous of those people who are producing works of fiction from their neat (I imagine) little outlines. I, on the other hand, am hard at work in the mines of my own memory, my own experiences, spinning as fast as I can, straw into gold, Rumpelstiltskin impatiently keeping time.

On the other hand, though: gold.

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