The writer’s life is anything but glamorous—mostly staring out the window, then crossing out what I’ve just written. Nonetheless, readings and author interviews are inevitably …

After a year of drafting my first young adult novel, I ran it past my trusty writing group (of twenty-five years!) and was unsurprised at their …

For years I’ve practiced strange medicine, resting my ear on the body of whatever story I happen to be writing. Is it alive? If so, …

I began my work day driving two nervous middle schoolers to the teachers’ picket line to march and cheer.  A limit to class sizes, more mental …

“You’re really enjoying writing these days,” a friend recently said. She was mirroring back to me my enthusiasm for my current project, a middle grade …

At the close of the year I like to pay tribute to those books that have moved me, molded me, transported me, and made me …

Through November and December, each night’s darkness clamps a degree tighter. Much as my rational brain knows I have a critical role to play in …

Why does this memory return today?  This question is endlessly fruitful for those of us who seek the meaning buried in experience.  I ask it …

grounded in “the root of our being, securely held in the Absolute Being.” It is pragmatic because the belief then creates our reality.

We’re fortunate to have the time and space to grieve—together.  Had my father died even a month earlier, this might not have been possible.  I’m …

Every year I’m surprised by how much spring looks like autumn. I’ll walk to work, delighting in the crab apples blooming pink or …

Four years ago, shortly after Trump’s inauguration, my neighbor slapped a bumper sticker on her car that read, “He’s not my president!”  The dismissive, liberal …