I am a person who needs her space. I have always been that person. Always. When my writing class laments the solitude of writing, I celebrate it. When class members want to get together online to write and then chat a little, in between our solitary writing sessions, my feelings are a mix of FOMO . . .
Was there ever more difficult advice for a writer to follow, especially if they haven't been a professional writer for a lifetime? And, even if, like me, you have been? But it is, in fact, the best writing advice, ever. When we work so hard on something, when we are so attached to our prose, the . . .
I woke up this morning and knew without a doubt---felt to my deepest core--- that the world had changed and there will be no going back to how it was. No going back. Our world, as we knew it, is gone forever. It brought me to tears. Our nation is splintered, our representative democracy gravely . . .
A truism is something that is obviously true. But no matter how obvious, sometimes we just don't want to believe they are true. Here are a few examples of truisms, as I see them. If you have some of your own, I'd love you to add them in the comments. When someone shows you who they are, you . . .
Send a unique Valentine with love to your mama, your sister, grandma, bestie or your true love -- a little stunning art they can enjoy for days. The day we celebrate love is coming up and never has there been more need for love than this Valentine's Day. This month over at A Healing Spirit, we . . .
There seem to be two ways people deal with Covid information: ignorance is bliss or knowledge is power. I am in the second camp. This is not a disease like any other. It is not like the flu. It is five times as likely to kill as the flu. It can have debilitating long lasting effects. How long? . . .
I'm shocked. No, I really am. My social media feeds are filled with people who celebrated the holidays with travel and/or family gatherings. Each is under the illusion that they had taken appropriate precautions. If they were being honest with themselves, they'd admit that the only truly effective . . .
This battered and worn Revere Ware copper bottomed percolator sat on my mother's stovetop for as long as I can remember. Now, it looks vintage and it IS vintage. As is the sound of coffee perking. How many of you remember this distinctive Maxwell House TV ad from the 1950s? That little perking . . .
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Before dawn 21 years ago today the call came that my mother had died. It was not a surprise; she'd been sick for the better part of a year. I left home in 1972. It was my mother's fondest wish that I return, but I had a career and had built a life--several, really--and to be honest, as Bob Dylan . . .