I'm alive and writing. Since my last letter, I've been diligently collecting stories about stories. Confused? Let me explain. Writing is more than the time spent actively stringing words together. Ideas are planted and explored during seemingly mundane activities within our daily lives; waiting at the bus stop, washing dishes, or even while zoning out during a sermon. I started drafting a "Hey Onicia" about my story journey, the process of taking a project from idea to writing the first sentences of the first draft. I abandoned finishing that article because I don't want to block my creative flow by pausing to analyze the process when I'm knee deep in it. I would, but I've been dealing with tendonitis in both hands and therefore have to be intentional about how I use my hands.  Shoveling mounds of ice cream? YES! Writing a newsletter? NAH! Shouting into the Twitter void? NAH! Writing letters to friends? YES! So yeah,  tendonitis and...