Hey there, everybody! Welcome to the new blog!
To all my old readers—don’t worry, I’ll still be blogging about noteworthy experiences as well as things that enrage me, such as this Voltron Lego set that my husband painstakingly constructed and insists on displaying on our bedroom dresser:
To all my new readers—thanks for checking out the new site. You too can now be enraged by the Voltron Lego set on display in my bedroom.
As you peruse the blog, you’ll notice I’ve been baking a lot. I took some cake decorating classes, watched a boatload of YouTube videos on the subject, and have experimented with all kinds of recipes and techniques.
But, Meredith, you might be wondering, where did all this cake stuff come from? I thought you were a writer?
Well guys, I’m gonna level with you. After ten years of writing novels, trying to get them published, and being bombarded by rejection letters left and right, I came to the soul-crushing conclusion that I failed at achieving my dream.
I did not write a New York Times bestseller. I did not become the next Harper Lee. None of my books will ever become a movie in which I provide a small cameo wearing the designer outfit of my choice, or a futuristic dystopian uniform, as the case may be with one of my books.
To deal with the general feelings of yuck that accompanied my failure, I started baking. I’d always liked to make cakes for friends and family and decided to kick it up a notch by learning some mad new skills. It was great because I would make a cake for somebody, and they’d be all, “OMG THIS IS AMAZING THANK YOU.” Nobody found fault with any of my cakes, even if they weren’t perfect, and there wasn’t a rejection in site.
Cake making is how I’ve dealt with my failure. It allows me to be creative without being judged because really, who’s going to complain that you made them a cake?
So I’m going to make some more cakes, stick ‘em up on the blog, write some shit about what my husband is up to as well as some other stuff in my life, and show you that you can get through failure, even really embarrassing, heartbreaking, kicking-you-repeatedly-in-the-gut failure, with just a little cake.