I check the weather report every morning. It will come as no surprise to anyone who knows me that I do not simply listen to the report on the news. I check the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration’s National Weather Service website. Doesn’t everyone? I’m...
Last spring, I wanted to be Fredrik Backman. I don’t mean famous. Or Swedish. Or brilliant. Or a guy. No, I wanted to be the writer whose words could cause a quinquagenarian former high school principal, not prone to emotional outbursts, to weep openly in an auto...
“The bluest skies you’ve ever seen in Seattle." That lyric, from Bobby Sherman’s theme song to Here Come the Brides, has been stuck in my head since I was five years old. It is so true and so not true. And I am grateful that it is both. Last night, my husband and I...
The concept of re-inventing oneself seems consummately American to me. As the grandchild and great-grandchild of immigrants, this idea, that I am not now all that I can be, was not merely passed down through generations of storytellers but branded on my heart and...
Louise Penny once wrote, “Things are strongest where they’re broken.” There are so many jewels sprinkled throughout Penny’s writing. Sentences formed without adornment that illuminate a feeling or belief so genuine and universal you wonder why you hadn’t thought to...
The WFWA writing retreat in Albuquerque was an amazing week of learning and growth. A retreat is a powerful way to advance your writing. What’s my strategy to get the most out of it? Remove, Engage, Think, Realize, Elicit, Aspire, Tangle and Scribble
All of this made me think about how I am spending my time. I got caught on the phrase: spending time. If you think about it, spend is technically correct but indistinct. It doesn’t really say anything about value . . . The value of time is not like that of money. You can’t bank time, make more, or spend it later. Time is marching on. Whether with intention or not, we are going to spend it. How we spend it matters.
Years ago, I knew a talented young woman full of joy and promise. She was an artist. As I had primarily studied the sciences, I didn’t always understand her. We both had creative, flexible minds but her thought path was like a fast-growing vine covering a skyscraper....
It was 1989 and, looking back, my parachute was crimson. The ink on my Bachelor of Science degree in Biology had been dry a year and my teaching certificate had just arrived in the mail (the extra-postage-required, this-could-take-a-month kind of mail). I thought it...
As I do every morning, I got in my Jeep yesterday, buckled up, and drove off. I was maybe a block from the house when the seatbelt alarm went off. I jammed the tab in with no effect. I unbuckled and re-buckled. Nothing. And then I looked in the passenger seat where my...