Novelist & Whimsical Word Sleuth
I tread through the concrete jungle, hot and wilted like a neglected plant. My brow sweats with exhaustion as my cracked lips beg for moisture.
The irony is not lost on me.
I’ve been walking for two days now.
The sun browns my skin as I find a shaded stoop to rest.
I slide my knackered body back against the cracked, split door.
This place is familiar.
Where writers gather
Writing from the heart
Hannah Michaels
A Place for Kids and Grown-Ups to Discover Books
TBI, post-concussion syndrome, and how to reclaim a creative life
"Not all who wander are lost..."
Author
Make it new, wrong, broken and brilliant
Whimsical Philosophy, Poetry & Inspiration
Reflections and Delusions
Quiet-time inspirations in recovery
My interviews with many authors
For the passion of writing....
but not always
Creativity Unleashed
Writing about the human condition and learning to laugh about it
A Collection of Blogs Written By Men & Women In Prison
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