Admittedly, this is a grasshopper.

Admittedly, this is a grasshopper.

Should anyone be looking for me this morning, please direct your attention to the “Bad, bad author!” corner. That will be me with her back turned to the group, a guilty slouch to her shoulders and telltale mulch on her shoes.

Anybody care to guess what Chloe did wrong?

*hands shoot up across the world*

*a very serious faced guy in the front row hisses, “Traitor!”*

*an equally mulched and mussed lady in the back yells “You go, girl!”*

Yes, Chloe Stowe gardened yesterday instead of writing.

I didn’t write a single, gosh-darn word.

Apparently the world didn’t end as a result since I am sitting here in the Failure Corner this morning feeling sharply guilty (but just as sharply proud of my rebel self *lol*).

Oh, I’m sure I will pay heavily for yesterday’s frolicking in the Pentas, Winter Squash and Ixora. In the next few weeks as Book Two’s deadline roars into my face, I will no doubt be fussing and fuming over my irresponsible author behavior. Jiminy Cricket will be chiding heavily from my shoulder about “Responsibility” and “Putting my nose to the grindstone”…

I will of course then remind him that he is a freaking cricket, and that he should be appreciative that somebody is assuring his kind has green, pretty stuff from which to chirp from.

A stalemate will then hopefully be reached, and I won’t have to threaten to have my dog rip the whiny little bug’s body into cricket nibble.

Until then, however, I will be sitting in the “Bad, bad author!” corner wearing a smirk on my face and a Penta blossom in my hair.

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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