“In the fall of the year, when the leaves were blushing red in the sunshine and the trees were yawning and stretching and shaking loose from the apples and acorns and chestnuts they had been carrying all summer, I left my cottage and walked the seven miles to Witherly, a little village on the edge … Continue reading New BOOK Coming Soon!
I buy the kerosene at the shop around the corner. The woman selling it smiles at me, and we talk about the fresh spring weather, the crocuses popping up in her flower beds, and the barges coming down the river from the cities inland. It’ll be a rich year, she tells me. A blessed year. … Continue reading Ash and Smoke
He was dying when he told me, “I had an almost life.” The nurses sent for me when he woke up. His face was gray in the moonlight, gray against his sheets, gray against the hospital walls. I sat on the edge of the bed, listening to the heart rate monitor blip softly in the … Continue reading Almost Life
I come when the library closes. The lights are out, except for the lamp Mrs. Wilfe leaves on just for me. The doors are locked, and the windows have been shuttered. Even most of the reading desks are cleared. No one is left. Only me. Because I have to put the stories to sleep. I … Continue reading Go To Sleep
We are two weeks into January. Almost two weeks. What day is it again? Basically, 2019 has been a whirlwind of activity, even in its first two weeks. I started coaching sessions, started the first draft of my sixth book, embraced this blog, sent out several resumes for freelance writing positions, and oddly enough, repainted … Continue reading Living Like A Writer
They say the best shops are the easiest to find. I don’t agree with that. I’ve known many good shops in my time, shops that were hidden away, that took me all day to find. Sometimes the hunt is half the fun. But these days, people prefer main streets and wide roads, and convenience is … Continue reading Heartsmith
The beginning of a new year is an exciting thing. 365 days filled with promise, unsullied by mistakes, unspoiled by bad attitudes or hurtful remarks. A year is a powerful thing, and it’s exciting to have a new one ahead to conquer. Except when it’s not. Sometimes the thought of a new year, combined with … Continue reading For The Writer Who Isn’t Ready For Another Year
The house had a basketball hoop in the driveway. I remember that most of all. That day, the day we had a house, is too fragmented to remember perfectly. But I remember a few things. The real estate agent’s dusty car. The cracked pavement. The weeds. The peeling paint on the front door. And the … Continue reading I Knew
My grandmother kept prayers in her knitting basket. To me, it seemed an odd place to keep them. Prayers are meant to be kept in a Bible on the parlor shelf, or stuffed away in a church, gathering dust with the rest of the relics. At the very least, they’re supposed to be kept somewhere … Continue reading Knitting Prayers
Ramblings of an Obsessive Bookworm 