My current work-in-progress is another historical novel set along the Oregon Trail, this one in
Spring is supposed to be the season when the weather turns milder—when the frigid temperatures
Last week I wrote about marching forth, and today I’m writing about springing forward. Daylight
In the midst of the pandemic, we are all looking for little moments of joy,
It’s all over but the fireworks. The presents are opened. The menorah is put away.
I wrote in January 2019 about my hesitation over my husband’s Christmas gift to me
I don’t typically write back-to-back posts about “national days” and similar occasions, although it is
I’ve recently read two articles that made me think about the importance of telling our
I’m kicking myself, as writers often do. Actually, in every profession I’ve been in to
This post is mostly about The Buddha in the Attic, by Julie Oksuka, which my
My posts last October about the “haunting books” I had read are among some of
Sometimes, I link to posts from this blog in my monthly newsletter. And sometimes, I
I wrote a poem several years back about my mother’s hands. Here it is: Heredity
We don’t know what will suddenly bring a dormant memory to consciousness. For Proust, it
On June 25, 1975, for my parents’ twentieth anniversary, I gave them a photographer’s sitting
This week I have a guest post on Write Brain Trust that discusses how I formatted
One of the more sensational stories of the Oregon Trail is that of the Donner
Most people pull out their wool sweaters and socks for warmth during winter. Not me.
My husband and I were just in Southern California and spent most of our time
I mentioned in a post a few years back that I saw the Mary Poppins
My husband and I will celebrate our thirty-ninth wedding anniversary soon. We were married just