“Who’s That Girl?”

“There was a little girl, who had a little curl, right in the middle of her forehead…” My mojo was ruined by my hair this week. It started last Thursday after I’d posted an 80s “selfie” on Facebook. The picture was in honor of TBT (throw back Thursday for those of you who don’t understand

“Are You Alright?”

Bad things happen every day—key up Facebook, Twitter, or any social network site, and you’ll find stories that make your skin crawl. So, why did this one in particular strike a chord? It happened with an oversized bandage. If it weren’t for that, It’d probably be another innocuous story I would’ve felt bad about for

Band of Gold

Today is–was–should have been–my wedding anniversary. It’s a strange day, one I cannot label sad or tragic or happy or anything. The skies outside are gray and dismal. Rain fell, then the clouds parted and the sun appeared. Not long after, the rain returned. It’s our first anniversary apart in eighteen years. Already, holidays and

“Stop Making Sense”

“Stop Making Sense” Over the years, I’ve been approached with the question, “What’s the best advice you offer for aspiring writers?” As leader of three writers’ critique groups, my initial reaction is to wrack my brain for programmed responses: incorporate sensory details, keep dialogue fesh, succinct, be certain it moves the story forward, and use

“Words”

It finally happened. I hit the proverbial “writer’s block.” There are those that follow the school of thought that writer’s block isn’t real, just imagined, that all writing can be jump-started with a change of venue, a cup of coffee, or a pithy prompt. Perhaps this is true, but today I hit writer’s rock bottom.

“Girl U Want”

I fell in love last week. I was away in Pennsylvania, attending my first residency at Wilkes University. The first time I saw her, she was chatting on her cell phone in the ladies’ restroom. I caught her reflection in the mirror and smiled. She didn’t seem to notice me or was too wrapped up

“Boogie Fever”

They say laughter is the best medicine, but I think they have it wrong. Music is the best medicine. When battling illness, I allow myself a twenty-four hour pity party period then it’s shake it off, soldier, get back on the saddle. Had a cold last week and my eyes are infected with something that

“Eyes Wide Shut”

What. The heck. Is going on with my eyes? Humor me for a moment. I know time is limited and no one wants to spend precious minutes reading a “Woe is me (I) blog,” but this page isn’t just about a strange injury…there’s something seriously wrong, and I think it can be traced back to

“Here Comes The Rain Again”

Before I begin, let me say, “I love the rain.” I love songs about the rain. I love the smell of the street after a good, long soaking. I love walking barefoot, splashing through puddles, and hearing peals of glee as my kids kick muddy waves across the sidewalk. I love to hear the sun

“Opus Dei” (Live is Life)

The universe is a strange place, its inhabitants even stranger. There are theories that we are magnets, each attracting people and circumstances from the energy we expel. Others say it’s only random. That things just happen and there’s no rhyme or reason. No rhyme or reason? I can’t swallow that. I want to believe that