For the first time ever, Clare wondered how many stories she had written over the years. She had never bothered to count. Why would she? Clare pulled one of the top boxes closer. This was the one with the most recent journals, almost all of them from since she had arrived in New York two years ago with a suitcase, her meager life savings, her mother’s gun, and absolutely no plan. She had some stories in there. Some of them were maybe not even half bad.

Why didn’t she ever consider trying to get one published?

“Wha’cha doin’?” Donna asked from the doorway.

Clare jumped, her hand flying to her chest. “Jesus! Nothing.”

“You’re thinking about it.”

“About what?”

“About what it would feel like to see your very own name in print.”

Clare opened the top of the box and stared down at the stacks of journals inside. “My name? Clare Kaczanowski? Yes, it just rolls right off the tongue.” She stared at the ring she still wore on her left hand. “I would use a different name.”

“Oh ho! We go from not even dreaming of trying to publish to having a pen name picked out in less than five hours,” Donna teased. “And you say you’re not a writer. So what’s this new pseudonym you’ve already decided on? Tell me and I’ll let you know if it makes you sound like an asshole.”

Clare took the first five journals from the stack and set them aside. “Clare Collins,” she whispered. “If I ever published anything, it would be as Clare Collins.”

“Clare Collins?” Donna asked, wrinkling the space between her eyes as she tilted her head back slightly and stared at an empty space of wall behind Clare’s head. “Clare Collins…Clare Col-lins.” She flattened her lips into a straight line and nodded twice. “Okay, I like it. You can use that.”

“Thanks a lot,” Clare said.

“On one condition.” Donna held up her index finger.

Clare scoffed but still smiled at her friend. “And what is your condition?”

“You let me read something by Clare Collins by the end of next week. And if after reading it I don’t think you’ll embarrass yourself too much…you’ll join my writing critique group.”

“With all your MFA friends? No, thanks. I think you’re forgetting that some of us didn’t even attend their local community college, so there is no way—”