Jen Fryar

  • Muses

    I remember, quite clearly, writing the Wild West Saloon story. I was maybe 10, and was basing it on a photograph I had taken with two childhood friends at an “Old Time Photo” studio in Hampton Beach, New Hampshire. We were dressed as saloon girls–satin, corsets, fishnets, lace, feathers in our hair. We were posed…

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  • Dear Diary

    Hoo boy. I’ve started more diaries in my life than I can count—dozens of journals, notebooks, spiral bound, composition—you name it; the first ten pages were filled in a week before it wound up under the bed or in a rarely-used purse.  That’s what this feels like. Like I just wrote “Dear Diary” at the…

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