Meagan Lucas

Day Drinking

Posted by in Stuff About Writing

It’s been this kind of day (this is my desk and it’s 2:30 in the afternoon):   But, I also wrote this today: “I loved you like you were my own, so much, I forgot that you are hers.” and right now, it feels like the truest sentence I’ve ever written. Facebook Twitter Google+ LinkedIn

With Great Power…

Posted by in Stuff About Writing

When you decide to move from being a “writer” who just writes for fun, to a “writer” who wants people to read said writing, you open yourself up to a lot of opinions/judgment. Learning how to absorb these opinions, and use them to get better has been a struggle for me. Part of me just wants to curl into a ball and cry. HOW DARE THEY THINK THAT!! *sob* Part of me wants to bury my face in a pint of Cherry Garcia. But then I look at how different/better…read more

Thirty Posts in Thirty Days

Posted by in Stuff About Writing

For the last month or so, I’ve been feeling bad about how I’ve been neglecting this blog. I’ve been distracted. I wish that I could say I’ve been busy writing something else, but there has been much less of that than I’d like. I think in a perfect world I’d set myself up with a schedule where I’d sit down to write at the same time every day, I’d get my word count in, and then I’d have time to do the peripheral work of writers – the looking for…read more


Posted by in Navel Gazing and Other Hysterics, Stuff About Writing

The first one came at 5am. It was a huffing sound in the darkness. It seemed to go on and on. My skin prickled under the covers. Then the sound of my dog, Lincoln’s, crate shaking, the eerie, high clang of metal hitting metal. The sharp scent of urine. My husband jumped out of bed and threw on the light. He pulled Link out of his bed, and we watched, open mouthed, as his rigid body shook. I couldn’t even think. “He’s having a seizure” Josh said. I didn’t know…read more

Thin Skin

Posted by in Stuff About Writing

Every morning I slip out from behind my brick wall, and float around in my soap bubble. The bubble doesn’t offer much in the way of protection, and I get hurt a lot, but it’s the only way. If I remain behind my wall, I can’t get close enough, I have to risk being crushed, being stabbed, being broken in order to do what I love. Good writing requires a certain… sensitivity. A good writer must be observant, must notice subtlety, and nuance. A good writer connects with emotion and…read more