101 random things about me

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I have been terrible about writing blog posts this year for many reasons that might sound like excuses. I launched my own publishing imprint, published my second novel, worked significantly on my third novel, prepared my first novel for republication under the new imprint, read 101 books as of December 8 and held down a full-time day job in addition to spending quality time with my family. 

Instead of starting a narrative blog post, I thought I would share 101 random facts about myself to help my readers know me as a person a.k.a. a weird woman who sees all things through the eyes of a writer. These tidbits are in the order in which they came to my mind. I hope you enjoy reading.

Our First Official Family Vacation

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In the 10 years since Jonathan and I became parents, we’ve never taken a real family vacation. By vacation, I mean to drive away from our home to another location, see an attraction or two, and sleep there at least one night before driving home. And hopefully, something that in no way resembles National Lampoon’s Vacation.

At the end of last year, we talked about an eventual road trip to either Yellowstone, the Grand Canyon, or (ambitiously) both. Knowing how far those destinations are from our home, and knowing our children, I suggested that we start smaller, considering that the kids have trouble getting along for the two-minute car ride from their grandparents’ house. It’s even worse when we visit my mother’s house that’s nearly two hours away. Constant bickering of “he’s looking at me” to “stop singing, Meredith.” I usually turn the radio louder to drown them out until they knock it off. It’s more effective than yelling. Continue reading

Two Years of Updates: Reading, Writing, and other creative outlets

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I feel like this is a confession. My name is Brandi. I’m a writer, and it’s been two months since I last published a blog post. It’s my longest gap since launching this site two years ago. Has it really been that long?

Lately, I’ve been reflecting on where I was in life two years ago. I was just starting to write again because of a burning desire inside I could no longer ignore. I was haunted by past heartache from which I’d never properly healed. I was depressed, anxious, restless and an insomniac. I was also exhausted from the “perfect” facade I’d been presenting that was finally crushing me. Continue reading