Several days ago, a friend and I went to a local farm to pick blueberries. In the field, it occurred to me that this would make a terrific blog post, because there were similarities between blueberry picking and the writing process. I took some photos, and I even asked my friend to take photos of me picking. As I filled my container, I looked for ways I could link writing and blueberry picking. It was going to be brilliant, the kind of post that would inspire writers for years to come.Continue reading
All the signs were there.
As a teenager, when I pictured my someday home, I imagined a cottage in the woods. Peaceful and serene, with a typewriter, a piano, and a cat. No children running around; no husband interrupting my concentration. Just me, on my own, writing books. Continue reading
Yes, friends, it’s true: I shall reach the exalted age of sixty soon. Very soon. Very.
Recently, I watched an episode of “Sex and the City” in which Charlotte announced that she was not going to turn 36 on her birthday because “I’m just not where I thought I’d be at 36, so I’m sticking at 35.” Granted, she was in a tough spot: her marriage had crumbled under the stress of infertility, and her efforts to resume the career she’d paused for babymaking had proven fruitless. Still, it set me to wondering: am I where I thought I’d be at 60? Continue reading
Tomorrow is Independent Bookstore Day!
Those who haven’t celebrated this holiday before may have a few questions. While I am not a bookseller and I have no affiliation with any bookseller, I do have a teensy bit of experience in buying books.
So, let’s consider a few basic questions: Continue reading