As we’ve just been put under a PDS (Particularly Dangerous Situation) Tornado Watch by the National Weather Service, I’m posting early before bad things start popping down from the skies.

Go ahead, color me a coward.

I look magnificent in yellow crayon.


I did want to let you guys know that I sent off my much anticipated and overly ballyhooed (on my part) letter to the literary agent. Packed with four attachments and paragraphs of brilliant literary ideas (in my mind, at least *lol*), the missive is on its way to New York.

The weeks of waiting for a reply have officially begun!

Frank, my specter of imminent failure, is grinning hungrily at me from his tent in my back yard. What do you think the chances are that Mother Nature can take the lardy ghoul out but leave me and my mine alone? *sighs*

Anyhow, I’m out of here.

Sorry this is short.

Sorry this is early.

Sorry in advance if I miss a few postings due to extraneous meteorological activities.

Know I will return as soon as possible.

Stay safe. Stay sane.

Until tomorrow…


Acclaimed author of 17 novels (my dogs and mother adore me), World traveler (I’ve felt the Sahara Desert between my toes… still gobsmacked over the stars in the Sahara) And survivor (of three dirty-fighting gremlins named Anxiety, Panic and OCD)… My name is Chloe Stowe. Hello. If you’ve found your way here, you’ve most likely arrived on the coattails of my blog, The Words and Madness of Chloe Stowe. Started in 2012, my daily rantings now number in the thousands. Ranging from humorous to moody, poignant to absurd, these tiny tidbits of thought began as a way to get my name “out there.” It has long since morphed into an effort just to “be there” for anybody out there struggling with words or madness, like me. Quick biographical sketch of me? Nerd turned nut at nineteen. In my sophomore year at Auburn University, I was taken out at the knees by severe panic attacks. Chronic anxiety soon joined the dogpile, followed shortly by OCD tendencies. Oh, it was ugly. I eventually had to quit school and soon quit life, as well. I spent a good chunk of my 20’s not able to leave my room. Twenty years later, it’s still can get ugly in my head. Thanks to meds and doctors, however, I am able to lead a better life, now. I still can’t work outside the house, but I can live and smile and write. So, here I am. Broken, but stubbornly present. I hope my voice proves company to someone lonely out there. Thanks for reading! Chloe Stowe

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