“California!” was the plan.

I was curious about San Francisco, Los Angelos and San Diego.

Encinitas was not part of the plan.

Falling in love with a plumber from Encinitas was definitely not part of the plan.

How can you plan for things you never knew to consider as a possibility?

What’s my point? I’m not sure I have one. This post is unplanned.

Plans are over rated.


Quantitative Distractions

# of likes

# of followers

# of views

# of minutes, hours or days ago

# of characters

# of words

# of keywords

# of shares, retweets and comments

# of reviews

# of stars

# of clicks

# of bounces

Does quantitative success guarantee qualitative value?

How does quantitative failure help to construct qualitative improvements?

You’re a blogger! What do you think?

I would really like to know.

Why I Write.

Here I am. Step one, mile one. Typing as if I have something to say. Which is crazy. Because I do have something to say!

IRL* (in real life)—yes, I inverted the acronym/spelling parenthetical on purpose. *It’s a joke. I talk—a lot. I also laugh at my own jokes—a lot.

I don’t stop talking. Not even when I’m alone. Nope. I keep talkin’. Out loud. If you see me walking on the street, I’m not on the phone. I’m talking to myself. I’m just wearing my ear buds so you think I’m on the phone. But I’m not.

I talk because I have something to say and jokes to make.

I talk because I haven’t read, heard or met anyone who has a voice quite like mine.

In my twenties, I wrote all. the. time. I wrote more than I talked. (Or at least an equal amount.) In the last three years, my life has changed a lot, and in the transition I fell out of writing.

Instead of writing, I’ve been talking—a lot.

But when you say things they are gone. Writing is what captures my ideas.

She’s in there. I promise. If you stick with this, you might surprise yourself with what you’re capable of now.

I write because I have something to say and jokes to make.

I write because I haven’t read, heard or met anyone who has a voice quite like mine.

A Petite Request in 700 Characters or Less


Have you considered petite sizes or 28 inseam for your shorts?

Today, I was in the San Francisco store. I tried on every style of shorts available, sizes 26-27.

My butt and thighs fill out the bubble of the size 27 shorts (none of the size 26 shorts fit past my hips). However, the 27 waist is too high and large. The denim in the back of the waist sticks out, as if expecting another 5 inches of legs to appear.

Petite sizing would fix this problem!

I would love to hear your thoughts regarding this manner.

Thank you!

Charlotte King*

How To Be a [Reading, Writing, Working, Loving, Healthy] Woman

That’s the book I am currently reading. How to be a Woman by Caitlin Moran.

I see your question, Caitlin, and I raise you, “How to be a woman writing a book while working full time at a desk job and in a long-distance relationship.”

I’m about a third through the book and only now has she poked the subjects of career and love. (The first 100 pages were dedicated more to what makes a woman, rather than how to be one—periods, vaginas and tits.) So perhaps some pearls of womanly wisdom are just a few page flips away. (That said, I am enjoying the book. Moran is a fluid and fun storyteller, despite the fact that periods are gross.)

But now I am distracted from reading. I am cursing myself for not yet posting in August (It’s already the 6th! gasp!)—It is a constant mental note to not be too hard on myself, You just started this blogging thing. Give it time to take shape and prove it’s worth as both an accountably and marketing tool. Rome wasn’t built in a day, Charlotte. Just keep at it. You’ll see…

“Will I?!” In-my-head-Charlotte, “Will I see?”

And then she says, Time will tell. Which ends the conversation, because she’s right.

Time WILL tell. It always does.

Time will tell if my efforts amount to anything. If my labor ripens into sweet, juicy fruits that everyone will want to bite into and then tell their friends and family about.

If I imagine my book as one of the great pyramids, I’m still building the first level of bricks. But each of those bricks is THE most important brick to the brick that lay on top of it. Jenga had no place in ancient Egypt.

Mankaure’s (Mykerinus) Pyramid. Photo credit:

So I keep moving forward… Since my last posting, when I proclaimed, NO MORE TV!, a lot has happened! …a hell of a lot more than what was happening while I watched TV.

I am continuing to make changes in my daily routine to open more opportunities for me to be productive. Last month’s experiments (now the control) were revising my morning commute and quitting TV. This month, I’m focused on improving my reading rate—exploring e-book and audio books—and thus expanding my reading list.

I also, starting today, put my gym membership on hold. The new plan is to do yoga 3-5 days a week in my bedroom, saving me the time and, perhaps even more importantly, the energy of shlepping around San Francisco with my backpack full of books after a long day at the office.

So is that the answer then? How to be a woman with a big dream, a time-consuming job and inter-personal responsibilities and desires?—Brick by brick. Does that even make sense? 

Perhaps Caitlin Moran will explain it better. I should get back reading. Clearly, I have a lot to learn.

I Quit…TV.

Focus on now. Not being overwhelmed by the amount to do. Not doubting the end result. Focus on NOW.

Each day I am making positive changes that are slowly (but [if I am consistent and cumulative] surely) helping to progress toward my goal—my book.

So I’m not going to get upset at myself for having lived four city blocks from a San Francisco Public Library for two years and never once going inside. I am not going to get upset at myself for all those times that I reasoned, “Eh, I have nothing I really feel like reading,” and instead watched mindless TV. Instead, I will focus on what I can do NOW.

Last weekend—my first official weekend as a blogger (am I a blogger? Don’t you have to have a certain number of posts or followers or retweets or starts or stripes? Perhaps those people are Bloggers, capital B)—I was exploring the vast world of WordPress. My topics of interest, of course, center around “writing” and “book publishing.”

I stumbled up Author Raimey Gallant‘s post, Developing Your Reading List: A Strategy for Authors. In addition to her reassuring words, “Try not to be overwhelmed [by the overwhelming amount you need to read],” she offered advice to help encourage a personalized reading curriculum.ª

Within minutes of finishing the post (and a mini-panic attack—so much for not feeling overwhelmed), I registered online for a library card, and was out my front door.

I checked out three books:

  1. Hungry Heart, the newly-published memoir by Jennifer Weiner, which I consumed (no pun intended) in four days.
  2. Not That Kind of Girl by Lena Dunham. She is 31! If she’s not too young to write a memoir, neither am I.
  3. Let’s Pretend This Never Happened by Jenny Lawson, the Bloggess.

I also quit TV.

Time to get reading!



ªAt a particularly low-moraled moment of my 9-5 week, I checked my Gmail. Someone is following my blog! Thank you, Raimey Gallant for being my first visitor, reader and follower. *:)

“Aren’t You Too Young to be Writing a Memoir?”

My book. Both the bane and spark* of my existence. It is so big. And now my Inner Judgmentalstein* and tired mind tempt me with thoughts of giving up—I am not stuck anymore!

I am unstuck from being financially dependent on my parents.

Unstuck from long winter months of being cold and grumpy.

Unstuck from being so lonely and exhausted, my journals seeming to be my only source of emotional support in the world.

I live in California now! I earn enough money to pay my rent, go on vacation with people who love and support me, and buy new outfits for the occasion.

Going back to labor over my past life now seems…unnecessary? retroactive? 

This thought process confuses me. I am in a new city. Beautiful. Infinite*. Sunday afternoon 3 p.m. It is a chilly but sunny day in San Francisco. However, instead of living, experiencing here, I am at home on my computer, working to conquer my Everest.

Hush, Inner Judgmentalstein.

Too young to write a memoir? Am I not supposed to have learned anything from the last phase of my life?

I wrote my twenties as I lived them—through journal entries, essays and resonating quotes. I have my evolving personality snapshotted through time. I have exact moments captured that I would have never remembered with such authentic emotion, if I even remembered them at all.

I want to share what I have learned to help other people. I am moving forward. I write on.

So how is my book unique? This blog is to help me construct, catalog and organize those ideas into a professional and effective book proposal. Today I have three concepts that speak to the uniqueness of Let Me Out I’m Stuck.

(1.) Structure. The first-person, present tense plot line will unfold through various writing styles, including journal entries, creative essays and scenes with dialogue that work together to create a three-hundred-sixty-degree window into my young adult persona. 

(2.) Tone. It’s funny. I’m funny. Exercises of candor and wit, I tell it like it is. Or at least how I saw it. I believe people will laugh out loud when they read my book. They will also cringe and cry as they connect to the raw, honest emotions of vanity, helplessness and perseverance.

(3.) Timing. Let Me Out I’m Stuck presents a historical account moving to New York City as an aspiring writer in 2007 and being on the front lines as the Digital Revolution changed the way we communicate (and the publishing industry). From flip phones and Facebook going public to iPods, iPads and iPhones, I share a vivid and analytical perspective of the digital shifts in both my personal and professional worlds.

No. I am not too young to write a memoir. Perhaps I was too distracted. But that is changing now.