Thinkingdog Publishing

There is something I firmly believe about life, writing, and neighborhood fences. Everyone should have an old nemesis. Not a villain-villain. Not someone plotting your dramatic downfall while stroking a suspiciously fluffy cat. No, no. I mean the classic, everyday, slightly ridiculous kind of nemesis. The sort who appears in your life just often enough to raise an eyebrow, spark a rivalry, and add a little spice to the otherwise sensible soup of daily living. For instance, I have one. Blueberry has one. And, if we’re being completely honest, the neighbors may or may not have one in each other. If you’ve ever witnessed two neighbors snarking through a backyard fence, you will understand exactly what I mean. There’s a tone. A rhythm. A sort of polite-but-not-really politeness. “Oh, you’re mowing again.” “Well, SOME of us like tidy lawns.” Cue the slightly-too-loud gate closing. And the funny thing is… if that dynamic suddenly disappeared, the entire street would fee...