“I see an actress smoking a cigarette in an old Fred McMurray movie. She’s clever and beautiful and manipulative. I feel envy.… — Chila Woychik Copy Share Image
“sunset and evening star hunching and bending sleeping and slipping virus pneumonia coughing and crying hope in the small things heaven looks… — Chila Woychik Copy Share Image
“PLEASE TELL ME YOU KNOW OF SYLVIA PLATH Conventions bleed my soul squeeze me old wear me grey like a headstone in… — Chila Woychik Copy Share Image
“I don’t want to believe in boxes or one-way relationships; I’m naïve, you see. I’d rather moon the moon than flip off… — Chila Woychik Copy Share Image
“I should have been conceived during Woodstock; it’s in my blood: that burning desire to turn an absolute on its head and… — Chila Woychik Copy Share Image
“Only seconds slip by without me scrambling for the aid of someone better, more knowledgeable, to walk beside. Writers are good for… — Chila Woychik Copy Share Image
“I’m engaged in the dance of the ages and the search for a song to go with it. Though Templeton’s A Veritable… — Chila Woychik Copy Share Image
“This piece of earth I billet grows small. Bullets of time dart past, dropping shards of opportunity at my feet. And until… — Chila Woychik Copy Share Image
“I speak, I speak, and truth at that. Writers are a curious breed: brooding, fickle, alternately loving and hating their work—and each… — Chila Woychik Copy Share Image
“I know more about Emily Bronte than anyone I know. I know enough about her family to have been a part. I’ve… — Chila Woychik Copy Share Image
“I die with the dying light, yet shine brighter as the darkness approaches. Soon I’ll be whittled to bone and stripped clean… — Chila Woychik Copy Share Image
“I’m a rat. I used to believe in the Golden Rule but now question it. It’s too easy to be snarky at… — Chila Woychik Copy Share Image
“Writing analogies are as abundant as ants at a picnic. We love nothing better than a good analogy, a “life-is-like-this” on the… — Chila Woychik Copy Share Image
“At least I could relate to Rose’s sense of adventure and Harriet Jones’ wacky determination and ingrained sense of responsibility. I can… — Chila Woychik Copy Share Image
“I feign knowledge of writing: that I know something about it, that I should have learned something after all these years, that… — Chila Woychik Copy Share Image
“You want to get your book to press. You rush it through. Revision number twenty—done. Do you really need twenty more? Yes.… — Chila Woychik Copy Share Image
“I’ve had a fountain pen surgically implanted in my left index finger to save trouble. My body is tattooed with line upon… — Chila Woychik Copy Share Image
“Texting is a sex toy: pleasurable but a substitute for the real thing. Love has a face. Video chatting is good, but… — Chila Woychik Copy Share Image
“I’ve never had a rat, never chased one. I chase my own tail and that’s enough. I must now make plans for… — Chila Woychik Copy Share Image
“I read a book, am vortexed in with no escape; my face contorts, eyelids frost, breath comes short, body longs, heart stop-starts.… — Chila Woychik Copy Share Image
“I think that’s why I write—the not knowing and the blasted good feeling I get out of it all.” — Chila Woychik Copy Share Image
“I’m typing away, wondering why I had that Pepsi Throwback at such a late hour. Caffeine is a compulsion. Art is an… — Chila Woychik Copy Share Image
“I have a bad habit of dropping verbal pellets to get a reaction, like Ursula LeGuin’s “A novelist’s business is lying” (that… — Chila Woychik Copy Share Image
“Middle-age should be shot. Things about it gall me. First, that those younger despise the thought of getting old, and, hence, me.… — Chila Woychik Copy Share Image
“I see an actress smoking a cigarette in an old Fred McMurray movie. She’s clever and beautiful and manipulative. I feel envy. I suddenly… — Chila Woychik Copy Share Image
“Support our troops!” we cry, but I say, “Love our veterans!” And when he neglects church, take him cookies anyway. Sing him a song.… — Chila Woychik Copy Share Image
“The setting sun threatened to consume me—it could have, you know. It would have been a beautiful death with an honorable eulogy: slain by… — Chila Woychik Copy Share Image
“sunset and evening star hunching and bending sleeping and slipping virus pneumonia coughing and crying hope in the small things heaven looks brighter aching… — Chila Woychik Copy Share Image
“I was a late bloomer. I was still naïve about what 16 year olds today have known for years. I remember sitting up and… — Chila Woychik Copy Share Image
“Split your skull—a hatchet works well enough. Take a more delicate instrument—a scalpel, perhaps—and make a hand-sized slit; it doesn’t matter where. Reach in… — Chila Woychik Copy Share Image
“PLEASE TELL ME YOU KNOW OF SYLVIA PLATH Conventions bleed my soul squeeze me old wear me grey like a headstone in transit. It’s… — Chila Woychik Copy Share Image
“I don’t want to believe in boxes or one-way relationships; I’m naïve, you see. I’d rather moon the moon than flip off a friend,… — Chila Woychik Copy Share Image
“God, O God, where art thou? Thou art as distant to me as the lady combing rice in the Yunnan Province of China or… — Chila Woychik Copy Share Image
“Today I fed him right off the bat, and only checked Facebook twice.” — Chila Woychik Copy Share Image
“I should have been conceived during Woodstock; it’s in my blood: that burning desire to turn an absolute on its head and see what’s… — Chila Woychik Copy Share Image
