Elle Hill

So here’s a bit of background. My BFF recently received homework from her therapist: Write an obit about herself. She carried her homework to lunch with a couple other friends and me, and we had a blast thinking of creative ways to live and die. I don’t think I can compete with my friend’s Nobel Peace Prize, 65-year romantic relationship, magically immortal pets, and death by African ostrich, but I feel inspired to steal this homework assignment and make it my own. Here goes an obit that sounds remarkably like an Onion article… Elle Hill – teacher, writer, humanitarian, animal rights advocate, and self-proclaimed Crazy Cat Lady – passed away last January 23, 2071 at the age of ninety-seven during an incident authorities are investigating as a possible homicide. One of the now-well-fed animals Hill and others saved from a hoarding situation Hill, noted paranormal romance and science fiction author whose books consistently made the New York Times ’ bestseller list, was d...

Oh. Em. Gee. My very second official blurb, also from someone I respect and adore. It’s like Christmas in July, minus the awesome holiday tunes. Without further ado, here’s my second blurb, written by one of my fave authors, Lauri J Owen : A word of advice: find yourself a comfortable chair before you open   Hunted Past   because I guarantee you won’t put it down until it’s finished. Even on a work night. In sum: Ms. Hill’s debut book will rivet you, charm you, lull you, scare you, and leave you utterly sated when you finally close it - and your bleary eyes*. Her writing is so skilled, and so smooth, that you’ll forget it’s a story. Don’t you dare pass this one up! Lauri J Owen, author of   Blowing Embers An example of a severely tired person engrossed in a good book *Note: Ms. Owen tells me this is actually representative of her experience. How  flattering is that?!

Squee! How awesome is it that I’ve received my first official blurb! Not only that, but I love and respect my blurber! I’m so happy, I can’t stop using exclamation points! Sure, I’m aware that this early in my career, this blog is viewed only by my beloved sisters, a close friend or two, and, of course, me. However, I entertain pink-tinged fantasies of future readers who search desperately for a little more of my literary brilliance, stumble across this blog, and consume past posts like they’re bite-sized Butterfingers. Sisters, Jules, Pip, fat-positive Facebook friends, and future readers for whom my humility is nostalgic and quaint (yeah!), here is my first official blurb: With a handful of words, Elle Hill sculptures the most glorious characters, scarred yet beautiful, valiant and caring. Like Serena we are hurled from the normal world into one inhabited by psychics and super-human hunters, and by the leeches who feed on the darker side of us mere mortals to sate their evil hu...

I’m slightly shocked to think I, as a member of this democratic society (It’s actually a republic , -- well, some might even argue it’s a plutocracy or even corporatocracy -- but that’s not really our issue today, right?), have participated in a willful cultural ignorance that has allowed our children to remain perpetually victimized and abused. (By “our” children, I mean, of course, the children of those who have given birth to, adopted, or in some way claimed responsibility for them. I don’t mean to imply I ever have, would, or in any way desire to participate in this messy and pricey process of raising small humans. Oh, and by virtue of empoloying “our,” which is a possessive pronoun, I mean to imply the children also/really belong to us. Americans . As a society.  Maybe not financially, but definitely physically and morally.) An example of one such fat kid who needs our help I speak, of course, of fat kids. It seems we can’t shake a stick without encountering the questi...

Um, hi. Howaya? My name is Elle, and I'm pleased to meet you. My first book, Hunted Past , is due out in October, and its release has catapulted... er,  persuaded me to begin chronicling my endeavors, particularly those concerning writing -- and, let's face it, politics and animals, my two great passions.  I admit I feel a wee bit weird blogging. I mean, it's not that I don't think I'm interesting. Sure I do. I'm fascinated -- riveted! -- by me every day. There's just something so self-satisfied, even a bit masturbatory, about a lowly teacher-slash-writer keeping a blog. Ah heck, maybe that's just too many years of White, feminine socialization speaking. But no matter. I'm here, I'm sphere -- let's all get used to it.  And welcome. To you. To me. To the blogging world. MWAH to us all.