Combatting Paranoia

Obsessive? Who me? Never. Self-doubt never crawls through my mind like a million marching ants, hungry to consume my soul by first devouring my brain. And I never feel as though every writer on the planet is wittier, more eloquent, more talented, and just plain better than me. Of course, this is a lie. A lie I must tell myself when I'm feeling down. Like now. When I'm convinced that I am shit, less talented than the most talentless hack. When I'm convinced no one likes me and the space my body occupies is wasted on me. When I'm drowning in a torrent of negative thoughts that continually rain down and refuse to go away.

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Illustrious. Roast.

A few weeks ago, I solicited my Facebook fans for one noun, adjective, or verb. Thanks to Jennifer Grant and Jane McDaniel, I received two words: illustrious and roast, respectively. Undeniably an adjective, illustrious was easy. However, roast can easily pull double duty as noun or verb. Though for me, roasting conjures images of my car, baking in the Florida sun, and me, nearly suffocating after entering said sweltering car. So, I tend to think of roast as an action word. But I'm a writer. Is it not my duty to use "roast" as both noun and verb? Read on for the result.

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Evil Foods

Due to food allergies, my relationship with food is tenuous at best. Even though food can make me violently ill, I still associate food and drink with celebration and comfort. In fact, shoveling dedicated-fryer French fries into my mouth sometimes feels as good as snuggling under a warm blanket on a cold day. With this thought in mind, I recently asked Facebook fans to share a favorite food. I received some great feedback, which sparked the following short story (some fact, some fiction). Read on for the result.

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