I sometimes wonder whether, growing up, anyone ever uncovered my “dirty little secret.” I was not always good at hiding it: I misread social cues. I struggled to focus on conversations. I made few friends. I mimicked behavior I saw…
It’s a new year! Yay! And the vaccine is rolling out! Finally, you can exhale and concentrate on your novel. Not so fast, Hemingway. The end might be in sight, but as much as we we’d all like to move…
This morning as I was avoiding my desk, I felt compelled to tend to my garden. Watering, well that was necessary, and then inspecting and kvelling over all my beautiful plants. The first Siberian irises were unfurling, and my one…
On this past Solstice eve, instead of celebrating by the fire with friends, I went to Lahey hospital for a last minute MRI, to rule out something an ultrasound had picked up. The details of that true story don’t matter,…
My husband and I spent two days last month attending a songwriter festival, and you should not feel bad if you don’t know exactly what that is. We didn’t either, which made the ticket price that much more disconcerting. We…
The dreams authors secretly dream about the journey to publication can be outsized, even grandiose. In our imaginations, top agents clamor to be The One. We dream of the auction, of the money raining down, the praise and starred reviews,…