By Helen Raica-Klotz
“Shit,” I said, staring at the computer screen. I must have said it pretty loudly, because my colleague poked her head in through my open office door.
“What’s wrong?” she asked.
“I just got an email,” I explained. “I was accepted as a Writer in Residence in Door County, Wisconsin.”
“So what’s wrong with that?” she asked again, genuinely puzzled.
I smiled. “Nothing. Except now I have to go, and, well, actually write.”
I’ve always identified myself as a t...
Published on May 17, 2024 04:00