Some life changes drift past you so slowly, you don’t recognize them as they’re happening. It may take years before you can look back and say, “Oh, that’s where things started to change for me.” Other life changes stand up, grab you by the shoulders, and give you a shake. “Here. Now. This,” they say, […]
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Wacky Ways to Ensure a Happy New Year (It All Depends on the Color of Your Underwear)
My grandmother always warned: “Be careful what you do on New Year’s Day, because you’ll be doing it all year.” She probably meant you should avoid things like arguing with loved ones or… I don’t know… whacking your little brother with a Barbie doll. Just speculating, here. I’m not a terribly superstitious person, but I […]
Welcoming the Light Once Again
We look to the light, this time of year. We feel the shortness of the days, the darkness of the cold nights, the bite of the winter wind. We know to our ancestral bones that the sun is reluctant to spend much time gazing on us in December. We huddle inside, where it’s warmer, we […]
Why I Love Being a Writer
Lists are great. Lists can keep you organized, remind you of your priorities, or prevent you from making a faux pas (by forgetting to invite Aunt Myrtle to the birthday party, for instance). They help you remember to pick up yogurt at the grocery story, and they can show you how many more editing changes […]
Songwriting Sparks at the Bluebird Café
The Bluebird Café in Nashville has a storied past, as die-hard country music fans will tell you. Not being one of those, I hadn’t heard of it before this past weekend. Shame on me. The Bluebird Café is a tiny little “listening room” tucked into an unassuming strip mall, far from the noise and neon […]
Writers Have Keen Observation Skills – Or So I’ve Heard
Keen observation skills. That’s pretty much an essential quality for a writer, right? We observe setting. We observe atmosphere. We observe human nature. We observe conflict and emotion and irony. But boy, I’d be lousy as a crime scene witness. Detective: “Can you describe the perpetrator?” Me: “Um. I think it was a white guy.” […]
