cherry clafoutis
When I stepped away from my career to dazzle the world with my mothering prowess, just ask the kids how that’s working out for me, I looked for a thought-provoking tightrope that would suspend my brain between kid übering and spectator marathons of Little League games. UCLA sat 6 blocks from my front door.
Dreaming of being a less quirky (and less talented) David Sedaris, I enrolled in a creative writing class or two. It’s okay if you judge my writing ability at this moment and then hope I didn’t pay too much for tuition. I did. Those skills landed me assignments at this publication whose pay scale made minimum wage seem like one-percenter income.
My interest morphed into screenwriting. You know, when in Rome. read more