All posts by Jenny Bristol

More about me to come.
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Great, Good, Very: Writing Traps to Avoid

When you write for a living, you find yourself falling into ruts, using the same words over and over, stringing the same phrases together in different ways to say different kinds of things. I'm no different. (And, apparently, I use the word "different" far too often.) But there are some words that we should all try to avoid using altogether.
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Why Are We Defined By Our Deaths?

Yesterday, Philip Seymour Hoffman died. I hadn't seen too many of his movies, but I adored him in State and Main, and knew him to be a most excellent actor in addition. His death was possibly of a drug overdose, and if that's the case, he'll always be known as having died of a drug overdose, of it being a tragedy, and a genius who didn't get to perform his craft long enough.
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Jane Austen and Luke Skywalker Have an Illicit Affair

I just caught them making trouble in my office window. Holding hands, Luke with a blaster and Jane with a quill. "A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away," well, England isn't quite another galaxy, but Jane Austen did live kind of a long time ago. Rosie the Riveter is a bit jealous, but she's too concerned with feeding her family to fret. And she's too busy worrying about the apparent anachronisms.
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Getting Old Is Awesome

Getting old sucks. You just don't jump back from things as easily. Not getting enough sleep has more of an effect. Exercising wears you out more quickly and it takes longer to rest up. Injuries take longer to heal. The youth don't respect your opinions or your experience. Getting old really sucks.
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My Issue With “Woman”

When I was a kid, I was a "girl." That's the word that described who I was, to me, by me, around me. "Women" were those female people older than me, with responsibilities and maturity, and lacking youthful vigor, looks, or attitude.
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Social Batteries

I have a limited amount of social energy, and prefer to be the one to choose how I spend it.
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because I said I would.

I've learned about a new project called because I said I would. It started as a better option than a New Year's resolution. Those are often broken. But if you want to keep a promise, to yourself or to someone else, keeping that promise "because you said you would" is important.
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Declutter Your Space, Declutter Your Mind

We had a decent to do list this past weekend, and we actually got a good portion of it done. Not everything, mind you, but I'm always overly ambitious when it comes to what I want to get done.
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Keeping Anxiety From Holding Me Back

Today I got an email from a lady wanting to interview me, in my capacity as parent. Super parent, apparently, because why else would she pick me? Yeah, she must think I'm a super parent. Anyway, it's for a new venture that includes a blog and some other things. The interview will be over video Skype. Yes. VIDEO SKYPE.
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Some Kind of Anti-Bullying Day

It seems like every single day is a National Day of these days. Some are pretty stupid, and all are a thinly veiled attempt to raise awareness for something and get people talking. This is a good thing for some issues, if we look past the contrived nature of it all.
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Through the Decades: My Life in Chapters

A friend just turned 30 the other day, saying he hoped this new decade was great. I felt the need to tell him that my 30s were better than my 20s, and that my 40s would likely be even better. My life has neatly arranged itself into decade-long chunks of time. Chapters of my life, if you will.
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Allie Brosh and Depression

Years ago, I discovered the hilarious wonder that is Allie Brosh and her blog, Hyperbole and a Half. On a regular basis, I got to enjoy her brand of ridiculousness ("Clean ALL the things!"). I knew she battled depression, but she seemed to manage it at least to a level of being a functional adult. But then she disappeared. Not literally, but internet-wise. No more posts. She wasn't commenting on other blogs. People who knew...
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Domestic Archaeology

Every once in a while, it all comes to a head. The house gets so cluttered and chaotic that we all kind of just go, "Ahhh!" and go on a cleaning and organizing rampage. (All but my son, who really, really hates such things. We make him help, dragging him along, metaphorically kicking and screaming.) We've hit one of those points.
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