Dear Blog,
I’m so sorry. Between homeschooling, writing a new novel, and — you know — living, I haven’t had much time for blogging.
Love, Sara.
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Dear Other Novelists,
I don’t understand how you can say, “I’m working on a new novel, and here’s my first chapter!” Everything I write is in a state of flux until its final edit. I mean, I just changed the main character’s name and her bike’s name. Just not ready to share anything yet.
Love, Sara.
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Dear AOL Instant Messenger,
I read recently that you have officially passed away. My friends and I don’t use you anymore, but we mourned your passing. You were the social savior for all of us cult kids in the 90s. I’m not even sure I would have gotten married without AIM access to keep in touch with DJ.
I will wave a sad farewell as that little door-closing sound makes it final slam.
Love, Sara.
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Dear Other Novelists,
It’s going to be an excellent story when I’m done. A friendly white girl learns how racial injustice in the not-too-distant past still affects our lives today. So far I have two love interests, a narcissistic grandmother, and at least three Jane Austen references. Ha, I see you baring your teeth in jealousy. That’s right. It’s going to be good.
The bike’s new name is Imogene, by the way.
Love, Sara.
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Dear Enya,
I found out that you released an album as recently as 2015. You were my guilty indulgence in the 90s, along with AIM. I was supposed to be listening to “godly” music, defined by our Revered Leader as any music that emphasized beats 1 and 3 in the rhythm line. (I didn’t make that up.) But you usually didn’t have a driving rhythm line, so I could justify listening to you — despite fears that you were spewing New Age spiritism all over my fragile Christian soul. Thank you for giving me some relief from choral hymns and harp music.
Love, Sara.
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Dear Misguided Readers,
What do you mean, does my main character run a cute little shop and interact with colorful characters? Do you really expect me to write cute little bumbling romantic scenes? Do you even need a final piece of folksy feminine wisdom to wrap everything up? Oh horrors, I’m not the women’s fiction you’re looking for.
Love, Sara.
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Dear Grammar Nerd,
Okay, yes, I know. The second sentence of this post should begin with “among,” not “between,” because I listed more than two reasons. Thank you for your contribution. Nerd.
Love, Sara.
I love your letters β€
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I used to write letters to real people, but that’s fallen out of fashion now.
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Oh. My goodness, YES! AOL IM was how I actually had long-distance conversations with my husband, too! May it rest in peace, for it served us well. β€
And Enya. Totally. We were barely allowed to listen to her ethereal music, and skipped certain songs in our mother's presence because they sounded too "New Age"-y. My bridesmaids and I walked down the aisle to two of her songs.
You're the bomb, Sara! You make me smile with every post! π
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We listened to Enya on our honeymoon. Eventually I returned to the wide world of “any music I like,” but I always go back to a few special songs of hers.
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Which songs were in your wedding?
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The bridesmaids walked down to “Fairytale”; I walked to “To Go Beyond, Part 2”. π
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I’ll have to look those up.
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