What’s a Few Thousand?

Yesterday, I crossed over 25,000 words just over a week early. Halfway done with the NaNoWriMo word count and I’m feeling awesome. My hands, not so much. 
Definitely cramping going on over here. I’ve started stretching them and rolling on the IcyHot. I conceded and took today off any for real typing. 

Not even going to hint at my own personal word count goal for tomorrow. Do have a write in to help move that along! Fingers crossed! 
PS I dognapped a dog today and absolutely no regrets. 

Straight Down A Rabbit Hole

Am I writing? No, instead I’ve gone down a rabbit hole with land surveys and pole foundations. It is currently 10pm (I realize tomorrow is Friday so we’re scheduling this baby!) and I’m dug in (pun intended). So typical of me, have a project distract self with different project. Legit debated grabbing a flashlight and heading out to the farm to look for land markers. Thankfully, I figured it out without having to trek around in the dark. 

I will have a tiny house one way or another, mark my words. If November is NaNoWriMo then December is some catchy title I’ll think of later involving building. 

Yesterday, I rocked Day 1 of NaNoWriMo which gives a little wiggle room with today. 

No need to worry, despite the rabbit hole I’ve been relatively productive. 

Today I:

  • Did a word sprint writing a whole scene of 1,000+ words in 25mins. Shocking, it was actually pretty good. 
  • Dealt with boring lawyer stuff
  • Scrutinized land surveys
  • Researched tiny house craziness
  • Did all my new adult routine like making bed, real meal, vitamins, flossing, workout, etc. 
  • Realized it is only Thursday and I don’t have my writer’s group tomorrow (that would have been embarrassing).

Okay so when I lay it all out, it doesn’t seem as impressive. I’ll call it a half win. There’s always tomorrow and by the time y’all read this I’ll be in full swing. Tonight, just going to have a glass of wine and call it. 

For the Hell of it Friday

There are a million ways to be a writer. I have friends that are reporters, novelist, content writers, technical writers, bloggers, and a million things more. Some of us blast our words to the world, some pitch ideas awaiting acceptance or rejection a 150 at a time, and some of us scribble prose for no one to ever see. Still there are a million more. 

You can do it for the byline, the paycheck, or just the release. Try for a grant, residency, publication, or competition. 

One of the competitions that came across my desk was a micro flash fiction. A complete story in 100 words, first prize $20,000. I don’t know what story to tell let alone how to contain it to 100 words. 

Of course, the one that is stuck in my mind comes with no paycheck or grand prize. And that’s why I’m sitting outside on a Friday night trying to figure out a fictional me for a fictional land. Could I be a pirate queen or a priceless jewel or maybe a flamingo with a turtle friend? 

Yeah, this is going well. Happy Friday to all y’all, here’s hoping you’re out having nonfictional fun. 

Popping that Bubblegum Pink Bubble

Currently, I’m flying a bagillion miles in the air leaving Vegas where I just had my big ol’ pink head put in place. It seemed like the perfect story for the return of For the Hell of It Friday. First, let me tell y’all why I was so easily swept away. 

Before heading out to Vegas, I came home to Charleston for a few weeks. Seeing people I know everywhere I go is one of the things I miss most. 

Out and about once in Charleston, someone recognized Mizzou (she was a dog celebrity), stating that one of the people trailing her must be Muffy. Another time a woman came up to my table while out at dinner to see if I was me, I am obviously. She proclaimed me “Park Circle Royalty,” gave me a hug, and walked away without ever telling me her name. I’ve given speeches, taught seminars, and won awards that led to people approaching me in the grocery or strolling down King Street. Part of being overly active in the community. Plus how many Muffys do you really know? I’ve been told of dozens, but only ever met one and she was an “ie.”

While back in town I had my hot pink locks touched up. Sitting in the salon (which takes hours per visit), a woman between the age of my mother and grandmother asked if I was Muffy. I just happen to be her! Somewhat confused since I was in Summerville far outside my usual stomping grounds, I waited for her to fill in the blanks on how we knew each other. 
She recognized me by my pink hair and knew of my adventures because her niece follows me on Facebook. Let me tell ya, my heart swelled three times bigger than the Grinch’s when hearing the carols of Whoville. This was better than trolls! This was like a fan sighting! *fans self over the excitement of being famous*
That is why when I was lounging poolside in Vegas on one of the oversized chaise lounges and a woman approached me asking me if I was Miss Muffett sitting on my tuffet I laughed, flattered, and asked if she followed online. Yeah, no. She doesn’t. 
Feeling like a moron, I explained that my name was Muffy and since I had my highly recognizeable hair down I had thought she knew me. After all we were staying at the same hotel where I had been checking in a great deal…no, not even close. 
Not only did she have no clue who I was, she wasn’t really standing over me to get acquainted. My tuffet just happened to be where she stopped to wait for her friends who she recounted the whole event to still chilling at my tuffet. Pretty sure that put my dillusional celebrity status in check even if the Las Vegas Monorail liked my fb post. One day kiddos, one day. 
Next week, I’ll be wrapping up the summer of shows darting all around Vegas. Monday we’ll be back on track with a Muffy Monday discussing one of the top three questions I get on repeat. Doesn’t it feel good to be back?! 

What’s Going on with the FREE Car?

Glad you asked! Letters have been coming in from allover! Even as far as California! IMG_8406Huge thanks to everyone who has helped spread the word! Especially, Holy City Sinner and Michael Chatman’s #WhyIGive campaign for sharing the info. I even saw that the Salvation Army in Danville printed it out.


In order to keep it fair and impartial, I’ve got a system in place. Every letter is being read by me then sorted out. If it even hints at someone I might know or know through someone, the letter gets a second read from an individual party. It isn’t fair to exclude someone just because I know them and vice versa.

There was some concern that I would receive a bunch of heart wrenching letters and never be able to pick. Sadly, there have been some doozies…on the wrong end of the spectrum.

Come on people. You’ve got 12 kids, no home, no job, and only one arm so my car would really change your life? There is no way 12 kids would fit in my car and it’s a stick shift so you’ll probably need two arms.

Insensitive? Maybe, but man the whoppers I’m seeing. Luckily, I have a big brain to go with this big heart. All the letters that are moving on are being checked out by a third party. Just be honest guys! You don’t have to have a super sob story to get this car.

Also, in case this has not been covered enough: it is a real car. It really is a real car that I am giving away. That’s cool if you don’t believe me. I get it, it is the internet. But please, as much as I love hearing from y’all, there is no need to tell me how my FREE car is not good enough for you. Let’s keep that to yourselves.

We’ve still got a few more weeks before the April 21st deadline! There is not an exact date yet of when I’ll be announcing the winner, it is going to depend on how many letters arrive on the last day and where the winner lives. I would guess I’ll announce around the beginning of May.

If you know someone who might need a car or want to send in a letter yourself you can get all the details HERE.

Make sure to follow Muffy On the Move on Facebook, Twitter @MuffyOnTheMove, and Instagram @MuffyOnTheMove for updates. Good luck and keep the letters coming!




Everything Changes

The other night driving to dinner, I was thinking about Cuba. At the time, canceling seemed like the best thing to do. The Travel Ban was wrecking havoc and Spicer announced that they were starting to look at Cuba…let’s be honest, if only one plane in the entire world, only one person to be effected by a change in the embargo with Cuba then that person would be me. It’s my curse of good luck. 

It’s been discussed before with all of my wonderful luck comes my bad luck. I’ve been escorted home by Buckingham Palace guards, held hostage in a terminal in Germany, been asked to leave a flight in Bermuda because they thought my mother was a drug lord, debated over who had to take me between America and the Bahamas, as well as been delivered to the border by Canadian Mounties who get very upset if you ask if they’re real Mounties even though they’re not on horseback. If anyone was prime for limbo of an embargo, it is me. 

Honestly though, I think my spirit was broken. My isolation has been driving me crazy, but it’s coming round. There was so much to go through that being on the road would have pushed me over the edge or forced it all down inside of me. Back to seeing a balance, I thought about Cuba. I’ve thought about an end game, a final result. The wandering isn’t over, just maybe the living out of a carry on. Do you realize I’ve been rotating out the same 8 outfits regardless of the climate since December 4th? Poor things were getting pretty threadbare. 

You know what they say, we plan He laughs. There are loose plans in shape…mostly in the shape of a sailboat, but there’s probably a couple of continents before I unpack. It’s just silly. Cali is so close to Hawaii, Hawaii is so close to SEA, and SEA is so close to Australia…how can I not?! That should get me through hurricane season. Plenty of time for me to think of a name for a sailboat too. 

The boat isn’t the point. The point is driving the other night I thought about how sometimes your heartbreaks and your dreams change. That is exactly what had happened. Then it dawned on me that that isn’t a new thought. In fact, it is exactly how this whole thing got started in the first place. The header asks “how many miles to heal a gypsy soul?” Looks like we’re starting from zero and beginning all over again. 

For the Hell Of It: How I Afford to Travel

It is the question I get asked the most, “how do you afford to travel all the time?” Well, get ready! I’m going to tell you. And you can totally do it too. 

Be prepared, it will blow your mind. 

I have a job. 

Crazy right?!? I do this thing where I work and get paid for it. And since it’s the digital age, I can work remotely. I know. 

But, y’all really? Did you think I won the lottery? Or I’ve got a fairy travel godmother? Come on. It’s called a Digital Nomad and there’s a whole community of us. 

There are bloggers who do travel for free or get paid to do it. It didn’t just fall into their laps. Promise, they worked for it. Anyone who tries to lure you in with a hook that just like them you can travel for free is lying. Because if everyone could just do it, they would. 

How am I affording to buy a sailboat? Crazier still, rocked my side hustle. Also, crazier despite anyone having the impression I suck at this writing thing: some articles get picked up at $2 a word for 2,500 words. So if you think I suck then you can suck it because this bish is getting paid. 6-8 week lead time? Bish don’t care. Bitches getting paid. 


I just may make that my new profile pic. 

I Really Need a Calendar 

Son of a biscuit. It’s Friday. Did y’all all know it was Friday? Of course y’all did, you’re not isloated in a thawed tundra. Last week was a roller coaster of emotions thinking I was going to run on out to Charleston. Turned out, I was not. 

As a consolation prize, an old friend made the trip here. Then promptly Saturday, he left. Turns out he is this huge, mondo racist bigot. No holds barred on alternative facts and fake news. I may be starved for human interaction, but I’ll pass on the debate on the use of the N word. 

After turning in a piece (and getting paid for it!) somehow I was mentally drained. Where did all my words go? All my genius moments I get washing my hair? And I am mostly washing my hair every day! Side note, I’ve recently discovered bubble baths. Do people wash their hair in the bath? Isn’t the water already gross from you? I’m baffled. 

There was a story, a pitch, I just knew it was something that I couldn’t form. My stupid heart kept getting in the way of my words. That is supposed to be the complete opposite, by the way. Heart encourages words. 

Last night, it fell into place. Unfortunately, it was 3am when I randomly got up for the restroom. Stumbling to the office to find my notebook, it got scribbled down in the semi darkness. It just lurked on my notepad all morning and day. One starter. That’s not nearly enough. 

With a week gone, I need a whole bag of pitches ready for Monday. Shake it off brain! Shake it off! 

Then it just cleared. The void started to fill (while brushing my teeth, the usual). Bam! Like 6 solid pitch ideas! Knocked 4 of them into developed ideas with outlines! 

For the record, I brush my teeth multiple times a day every day. I have no clue why that genius moment routine has been clogged. I feel good sleep coming on with an early morning awaiting a fresh eyed and bushy tailed me. Notebook in bed beside me, ideas on the horizon. 

So yeah, it’s Friday. I forgot. I also haven’t talked to humans in weeks. I’m allowed to lose track of the days. 

Friends From Far

As I await houseguest, I started to notice a few things. 

1. I’m living like a weird hermit in the master suite. It’s probably a good thing I never moved that mini fridge in the garage in here. With the house empty, literally empty with no furniture, I haven’t ventured out of the suite much. 

2. Man, I’m lonely. I go days without seeing other humans. When I do it is something house related, not social. 

That’s why not getting to go to Charleston this weekend was so heartbreaking. Even more, I was going to have a party that I cancelled at the chance of Charleston. Work would have brought me to Charleston, but fun would have kept through the weekend. Another time.

Eventually, I’ll find a rhythm again. The loss of my grandmother, my family just in general, the return to Kentucky, pausing the adventure…it all has to settle. 

Writing as healing as it can be, it can go where you don’t want it to go. You can’t avoid it though. The words rattle around in your head, compose themselves in your sleep, on the edges of your thoughts. There isn’t rest until it’s gone. Maybe that’s why it was so hard to get this last article out. Everything else had to move out of the way. 

I’m just emotionally spent. Word exhausted. Thrilled to have company, to do normal things like talk to a human in person for more than 5 minutes not about flooring. And oh my God, we’ll go out to eat at a restaurant! Maybe a movie. Human interaction. Ah, I can’t wait.