How a writer avoids working on a deadline:

Has a stare-down with a chipmunk who's climbed up the Tulip Poplar and is cramming as many sunflower seeds into his cheeks he can possibly fit. He sees you. You see him. The stare begins. You win when he runs away, but you feel silly about it and then hum softly to yourself as if it doesn't matter.




Watches Rachael Ray chop garlic at the speed of sound while talking about her family while waving her hands around while shaking a pot of simmering meat while pouring EVOO while grinning that big ol...