Itâs 7 p.m. and youâve just received a notification on your iPhone that Janieâs Christmas party is in an hour and you completely forgot. Since her parties are legendary, instead of reaching for another bowl of popcorn, you reach for something stylish to wear. But what? A little black dress, of course!
I admit that if there is one flaw that will cost me success in NaNoWriMo, itâs that I am thinking too much about designing the perfect plot and getting to the end of the book. It has cost me valuable time that could have been otherwise spent on writing.
Material objects pass through and out of our lives as the years go by. I have very few of the gifts that I received 10 years ago. We lose things or have to get rid of items because we run out of room for them in our homes.
In the land of âhow to meal,â you could consider using a slow cooker as playing on cheat mode. It certainly is a great way to pile your main and your side into one easy, sloppy dish, best served over rice or quinoa.
The writing has officially begun, and while I am a little behind on my word count thus far, I still have much of the month to hit that lofty goal of 50,000 words.
This recipe is swell for any vegetarians and vegans out there, or anyone who doesnât want this harvest of sunset-coloured yams, âtaters, and squashes to end.
Letâs face it; Canada doesnât have the best reputation for literature, aside from the stuffy fodder of literary academics. Our world-famous authors are few and far between, so unless you love Margaret Atwood or Yann Martel you might be SOL for discussing Canadian fiction at cocktail parties.
Some consider it an art; to others, itâs a lifestyle. For many, itâs nothing but an annoying and difficult requirement that you want to do as little of as possible. Regardless of how one feels about the act of writing, itâs done by almost everyone every day in some form.
A woman is wheeled into the emergencyâs trauma room on a stretcher. Although sheâs conscious, sheâs been in a car accident and is bleeding from several injuries. She whispers to one of the paramedics that sheâs HIV-positive.
Recently, my best friend of 10 years moved to Toronto to attend the University of Toronto on a full scholarship. Her high school GPA was around 3.8, in the accelerated program. Ridiculous, right?
