Author Archives: amitha

Short Story: The Choosing Place

It was up to Manjoo to destroy Earth to save mankind. And she was going to have to do it alone. In a spaceship hovering near the planet she’d once called home, Manjoo had the most glorious view in the … Continue reading






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On princesses, superstars, and architects

My 7 year old is a riot. She has all kinds of elaborate dreams and schemes. By contrast, my 4 year old is more logical and reasonable, but she can’t resist my 7 year old’s infectious enthusiasm. Last week, the … Continue reading






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Lost Teeth

Today at home: 6 yo niece (face bloody): WAAAAAH! Mommy! I lost 2 teeth! Sis and me: oh no! are you okay! what happened? which teeth? 6 yo niece: the ones that were wiggly! Me: phew!!!!! what happened? Niece: I … Continue reading






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On speaking up and on resolutions for the future

I have been involved in many “diversity in literature” discussions over the couple years, and it has been an emotional roller coaster to say the least. Between writing and parenting I don’t spend a lot of time reading the newest and … Continue reading






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Writer

Am I a Writer with a capital W or a lowercase one, written in pencil?   PS For those of you who have no idea what this is about: I decided to transcribe some of the poems and ideas I wrote in … Continue reading






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Freeflow

Why do the words flow freer when I’m tired When I’m half asleep Body aching, footsore from a long day of mothering.   Children clinging to my legs, wanting me closer, closer Though my mind wanders, my heart stays with … Continue reading






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If I knew

If I knew what you meant to her, It wouldn’t have happened that way. I would’ve gone without you to another land to another place.   Instead I stayed, and we were never apart. But we should’ve been.   (Like … Continue reading






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Waves

(This poem is inspired by a character in one of my manuscripts. but I probably will not use it since her backstory has changed…) The night was black, and the the ocean pounded, pounded, pounded agains the rocks. My father … Continue reading






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In My Heart I Am a Poet

As promised last week, here is one of the poems from my little purple notebook. In my heart, I am a poet. But the words won’t come        when bidden. They come in the night when the world … Continue reading






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Little Purple Notebook

Sometimes when I’m tired, sentences pop into my head. I scribble them down in a little purple notebook that I keep by my bedside. Mostly they are story ideas that may or may not go anywhere, or ideas for solving a … Continue reading






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