About Allison Pang
Author.
Word-Whore.
Hello Kitty Connoisseur.I write the Abby Sinclair UF series, published by Pocket Books, the IronHeart Chronicles and the ongoing Fox & Willow webcomic at Sad Sausage Dogs. Represented by Jess Regel of Helm Literary.
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Tag Archives: rambling
Aug
6
Sounds of Silence
So, it’s been a quiet few weeks on the home front. Namely because the kids are gone, off at various sleepaway camps and other assorted fun. I haven’t had that much time to enjoy it, though. Spent all last week in software training classes for work (class ran from 8:30 to 6 PM every day…and topped off with a 90 minute commute in both directions, except for the day when a tractor trailer took out 3 lanes of 66 and added an additional 40 minutes to that. And the day I got pulled over. *cough*) So quite honestly, most of my time last week was either in class, driving to/from class or passing out with my brains leaking out of my ears in the early evening. (Not knocking the class though – it was definitely worth it.) I got some bits of writing done here or there when I could, but…
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Feb
19
Knowing the Limits
One of the things I’ve been doing recently is working through a pain management journal. Even though I know there’s an actual physical reason for a good deal of my pain issues, I do think there’s a mental component mixed in with it. The journal has been helping me work through some of that – it’s become clear to me that I’m carrying a great deal of anger. About a lot of things, I guess. I’m not going to unload them here because it will probably bore the pants off of most people – plus as much I tend to share everything, some stuff does need to remain sacred…at least until I understand it better. The theory is that if I can unload some of this anger, perhaps I’ll be able to manage my pain better. Even if it’s not a direct cause, holding everything in like I do is…
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Feb
8
Tough Love
I’m sitting on the floor of what I’m beginning to consider my room. It’s a dangerous thought to have because Moon Children don’t own anything. And yet, here I am, hunched over a book and pretending the squiggles are supposed to make sense. The doctor’s clothes hang off my frame loosely; I’m like a scarecrow from that children’s story, wishing for brains. The scarecrows here live under the city and dine on flesh, but it doesn’t make them any smarter. “Mags?” Dr. Barrows raps me gently on the head to bring me back from my woolgathering. It’s on the tip of my tongue to mention the scarecrows, but I decide the joke will fall flat. Moon Child humor is not for the faint of heart. “This is useless. I cannot make sense of scribbles.” I turn the book so it’s upside down, but the words aren’t any…
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Jan
30
Pieces of Me
I suspect the title of this blog post is far more poetic than the actual content will be. I debated saving it for something more emo and angst filled, but eh. Sometimes writing those sorts of posts are cathartic…but sometimes they are really whiny sounding too. Anyway, I’ve been pretty slammed the last few days – work has picked up in a crazy fashion, leaving me very little time for anything else during the day. School stuff kicking in for the kids. Web/graphic design stuff – funny how it’s either feast or famine for this. Crickets forever and then bam! Everyone wants a chunk of my time for something – site redesigns, shirt designs, plug-in creation…just crazy. (These are good problems to have, however.) Add the nightly writing sessions, plus a beta read or two and there goes the rest of my sanity. Even all my errands are out to…
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