I didn’t know I had a Jersey accent until I moved from there to Philadelphia. I didn’t even know what a Jersey accent was. I thought everyone spoke the same way, called things by the same name, you know, subs, sprinkles, pork roll, those kinds of things. Then I got into a big debate (my first of many) with a Pennsylvanian over a “sub” or a “hoagie.” This soon led to other debates: jimmies versus sprinkles. Pork roll versus Taylor ham, a sweeper versus a vacuum cleaner. It all became quite the struggle. Boldly trekking onwards, I knew I preferred a sub, sprinkles on my ice cream and Taylor ham for breakfast. And I clean my floors with a vacuum cleaner.
Proper
names of food and household items notwithstanding, being a hardcore reader
(thanks to those endless days at the library with Mom) helped shape my desire
to produce stories of my own. Inspiration is endless, from movies (“Drake,
we are leaving!”) to board games (“Look, the bullet broke that vase on the
mantel!”) to more books (“It is a far better thing I do…”).
Drop me a line sometime. I’ll happily talk to you about tea (oh yes, I am a tea drinker off-set only by those fancy-shmancy mochas from Starbucks), the New York Giants (a die-hard fan), chocolate (the dark kind, thanks), cupcake recipes (who doesn’t like cupcakes?) or the latest episode of American Horror Story and The Walking Dead.
