Hi, my name is MissMeliss and I’m writing a book. No, too cute. Better use my real name. Hi, I’m Melissa and I’m writing a book. *sigh* My real name is frumpy and dull, and doesn’t have the energy I need to make myself believe in this book-thing. Sorry Mom. I tried to change it once when I was nine – do you remember? I said I hated my name, and wanted to be “Kate,” because it was pert and upbeat and kind of spunky.

You humored me, and let me be “Kate” for about three hours, before I realized I didn’t really want to be “Kate,” after all. It didn’t fit. But it was sort of fun to try on her skin for a bit. I kept Kate’s attitude, except she’s now called Marin (yes, like the county) and she’s in my book.

The one I’m writing. The one that takes a bunch of cafe vignettes and braids them together with a connected story, and that is really amazing in my head, but that I keep putting off working on because I’m scared. What if it sucks and no one buys it. Except. I don’t think it sucks. It’s less than fine literature and more than chick-lit, but I’m pretty sure my writing isn’t completely suckful. I mean, I get paid to sling words together that are far less interesting than this book, so that’s got to be a sign, right? I think I’m afraid of finishing it. Of selling it. I hate the selling process.

Could someone just lock me up in a room and make me write for three hours a day? Could someone feed the dogs and Fuzzy and bring me coffee and bagels with sun-dried tomato cream cheese and chocolate croissants that are warm enough for the chocolate inside to be melty, while they’re at it?

Firefox thinks “melty” isn’t a word. Firefox does not get to decide these things. In my universe, “melty” is a perfectly fine word. It isn’t quite “melted” like molten cheese, and it’s not all sticky and tacky like something that is “gooey” but it’s warm and kind of squishy and malleable.

See, I can use “malleable” and “melty” in the same sentence and the universe won’t blow up, or anything.

Hi, my name is Annie M. Klein. No, it really isn’t. But I used that as a pen name when I was ten, I think. It’s a re-distribution of some of the elements of my given name. The one my mother gave me. All of it. Pen names are important when you’re ten. And I’ve always used my middle initial. I like it. It sort of balances the first and last name, and makes things more official. I feel sad for people who don’t have middle names.

Hi, I’m Melissa A. Bartell, I’m a writer. Am I? Am I a writer, or am I just a hack? And why do I sometimes feel guilty for changing my last name when I got married? Fuzzy’s last name is so much easier to spell, and it symbolized a new beginning, a new adventure. I didn’t do it because I HAD to, or was EXPECTED to. Part of me still feels like I lost some street cred when I did it, though. As if I ever had any.

Hi, I’m MissMeliss.
I’m thirty-seven, but the guys in the improv troupe I’m part of think I’m much younger.
I’m five feet tall. Exactly.
I have brown hair with pink highlights. A LOT of pink highlights. I think my hair is about 75% pink now. Like a raspberry mocha.
The picture of the woman with the pink hair I use in my profiles? The face is me, the hair’s a wig. My stylist won’t let me go quite that pink, and frankly, she’s right not to. The highlights…they’re better.

A touch of pink. A dash of spunk. A lot of words and music, pens and ink, dark chocolate, designer coffee, red wine, and rare meat.

That’s me.

Melissa.
MissMeliss.
Blogger, singer, improviser, voracious reader, cellist, vampire fiction fan, cook, dog owner, collector of shoes and hats, friend, daughter, lover, wife, writer.

Yeah.
Writer.

Scribble some words of your own, or read others here.