On the subject of snippits. I’m going to try to write more snippets again and stop worrying about the limitations I have when submitting them. Screw it. I was having too much fun with them to sell my soul over it.

Unfortunately, I’ve been sitting here for the last half-hour with a dozen ideas in my head, ones that aren’t clicking…

“The best priests are the ones that don’t want to leave the monastary, the ones that wander from parish to parish, town to town, never returning home until their fruitfulness is done: the cemetary in the grove of oak trees to the northwest, next to the field of sweet corn and east of the bees, had been the only idea of home some of them still held.”

The quest for the Jewel of Delight, which, when found, brings nothing…

A retelling of Snow White in which the evil stepmother is just the evil mother…

“Adulthood is when you feel regret without intent. Adulthood comes early to some people. Lise’s older sister grew up fast. You’d hear her every night, her mother calling her in Spanish to come in, or her abuelita telling her not to pick on Lise so much. “I’m sorry! Lo siento!” And she’d run off into the night, or leave little Lise crying and bruised on the ground.”

Aw…