If the alarm clock doesn’t interrupt the big finish.
Some people say they don’t dream. Others claim they don’t see color when they nod off.
I’ve dreamed in vivid color and 3-D surround sound for as long as I can remember.
The first dream I recall had me standing in the charred remains of a building when I was four or five. The terror of the fire woke me, and I barged into my parents’ bedroom, begging to be let into their bed.
Another day, I can remember bounding into the kitchen early in the morning, regaling my mother with…
A friend of mine is going through a profound loss, one I have not had to face, at least not yet and hopefully not ever.
She lost her child recently and struggles with a future in which she can see only grief and darkness.
She doesn’t ask for help, only reports from the field, a place I pray I never have to visit, the ground without my daughter.
It is a parent’s worst nightmare, losing the child we love more than life itself.
One of the many cliches about that particular loss is that it violates the order of things…
Golf used to bore me more than ironing. And I hate ironing more than I hate long division. I could go on and on with examples of the degree to which I loathe boredom, but came the day I saw the beauty in golf.
It took marrying a golfer. Though we were totally unsuited for each other, he introduced me to a game that, for a brief period in my life, became my passion.
During a getaway at a resort with a golf course, my temporary husband put a putter in my hand, and I understood why commentators always whispered…
My daughter received her first kitten for Christmas at age 5 years old. Love at first sight, she named him Sam, a black beauty who was weaned too soon. Our beloved black cockapoo Sebastian would roll onto his side so Sam could grab a mouthful of hair and “nurse.” I couldn’t figure out who was more neurotic, the kitten for thinking the dog was his mother or the dog for thinking he was female.
During her fifth grade year, I took my daughter on a trip to New York to visit our family. If you knew my sister, you’d understand…
you’ve read any of my snarky pieces, you might think you’re in for a laugh. Here we go, you’re saying. She’s got some joke up her sleeve. I bet this is about writing and stinky diapers.
But for me, perseverance and writing is about as serious as wearing a mask.
Like clockwork, whenever I teach a group of students who start out with a burning desire to write, we come to the part when they hit a wall and want to give up.
Often, this happens to new writers when the dream of winning prizes, earning big money, and…
These days I’ll take good news where I can get it.
Call me a good news junkie, but these days, who can blame me? If I lived in the western part of Australia where they pummeled COVID-19 into oblivion sometime in the last millennia (isn’t that how long the pandemic has been upon us), then maybe I’d still be my jaded, snarky old self.
I’ve been at one with my small one-bedroom apartment with its questionable plumbing and antique linoleum for almost a year. And frankly, when I look in the mirror these days, no way can I find a…
I’ve seen some great returns in my life, and I’m not even talking about GameStop.
Joe Montana, down by 7 with ten seconds to go, connecting with Jerry Rice for the win.
Tiger Wood donning the green jacket again last year after his horrific fall from Mt. Olympus in 2009.
My Uncle Martin conning Macy’s into refunding his money on a shirt he bought, wore, laundered, and returned after a wedding.
But none of these epic achievements motivated me into attempting to rejuvenate my lagging showing on Medium like the post by Jessica Lynn today on Medium success. …
What if we all gave up our second dose of the vaccine…for now?
Just so you’re clear about my credentials, I was a medical secretary for a while, not a medical doctor, though I’ve created one in my supernatural thrillers.
However, I know how to read, specifically medical data. I learned how from a real doctor. He taught me when we wrote books on heart health together.
I say all that to let you know that while you can’t take this post as medical dogma, it’s not just the misguided ramblings of a doddering old fool headed into her “second…
Don’t let the naysayers squash your dreams.
If had listened to every naysayer in my life, I would never have moved to California, never have married either of my two husbands, never moved to Mendocino, never dated any of the men in my life, never made my job choices, apartment choices, diet choices, shoe choices, and I would definitely never have become a writer.
I guess there’s something to be said for being a rebel because while I’ve alienated my family and friends at times with some decisions I’ve made, at 81 and counting, I wouldn’t take back any of…