The Five-Year-Old, petting Cozy, our eighteenish-year-old cat: “Ahhh, love is popping out of my heart.”
Spring Break may be over, but apparently, I’m still out of words. Normal posting will hopefully resume sometime this week, assuming my verbal synapses ever come back online.
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About Shala Howell
Writer of things ranging from optical network switching white papers to genetic testing patient education materials to historical fiction set in an 1880s asylum. When I’m not scratching my head over pesky characters who refuse to do things how I want them done or dreaming of my next book (which will of course be much easier to write and research than the current one), my writerly self can be found sifting through the stacks in my church’s archives looking for a few good stories to tell, blogging about life with a very curious Six-Year-Old at Caterpickles.com, or musing about books and the writing life at BostonWriters.wordpress.com.
The Five-Year-Old, petting Cozy, our eighteenish-year-old cat: “Ahhh, love is popping out of my heart.”
Michael Howell
Shala Howell
