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
When I arrived at Middlebury College, I knew no one. The college did a reasonably
Every year Christmas sneaks up on me. It shouldn’t, I know. It’s always on December
By the middle of July, the Oregon emigrants in the 1840s hoped to have crossed
I’ve written several posts about my grandfather’s clock, which my parents kept for many years
Unlike me, my father liked to cook. In fact, he paid part of his way
I wrote in February of this year that I didn’t know which issues in Oregon’s
Last Friday, March 24, I was a guest on Wayne Turmel’s blog. He introduced his
One of the downsides of listing our house for sale has been the need to
Some events stand out in the mind firmly enough that we remember where we were
Readers liked my gooseberry pie post, so here’s another tale about a summer pie –
Our new home is still not much more than a hole in the ground. The
I discovered as I cleaned out my parents’ house that there was a memory in
The last survivor of the 1906 San Francisco earthquake died earlier this month. William Del
When I was growing up, my mother regularly made pot roast because my father (a
I’m always curious about the reasons other historical fiction writers are drawn to the genre.
I’m writing another book about the emigrants to Oregon in 1847 who traveled in the
I had planned to write a family story for today’s post, but life has a
Here is a scene from Chapter 44 of my novel Now I’m Found, describing a