As a kid, I watched “Field of Dreams” and felt the magic. I saw a man plow his Iowa cornfield to make room for the impossible. As a grown-up writer, the film still resonates. I recently had a dream come true: I signed with an incredible literary agent, Natalie Lakosil of Bradford Literary Agency.Read More
I didn’t have time to stop or swerve or even react. I just killed two birds. I just killed two birds. I keep thinking about them. I hear them colliding with my car and dropping underneath. The sound of tossing two full apples into an empty trash can; hollow thuds.Read More
All but the shattered glass was a blur. My morning’s promise of journaling and cozy coffee was replaced with a dangerous mess—a sharp awakening. Unavoidable. My elbow dinged the French press as I grabbed my vitamins. No matter how careful, these fragile coffee makers eventually break. Don’t they?
I pedaled backwards and slid on sandals. I remembered my parents in broken glass situations, their diligence to keep us safe. “We don’t want your little feet anywhere near this until it’s cleaned up.” As kids you are vanquished to the next room. Protected. As the only adult, I handled that morning’s mishap and experienced a mixed moment of remembering and realization.Read More
My heart pounded.Sweat puddled on my arms. My legs were Jell-O. No, I wasn’t in a horror movie. Close. Spinning class.
I’ll level with you…Read More
On a Christmas break, I visited my college boyfriend and his family in Oregon. He made sure I experienced ALL that his state had to offer. At a Duck’s basketball game, they had a special halftime competition that still makes me smile!Read More
“Hey, I am going to steal your wallet now. See. I have my hands on it. Watch me take it.” —Said no robber ever.
It’s almost funny to think about, because it doesn’t happen. I thought about an announced robbery when I read these words, “Comparison is truly the thief of joy.” A student included them in a letter through Letters About Literature, a program where students write to authors about how their books made a personal impact.
With those words, I remembered our house being robbed...
In Galveston, I had a quirky tour guide with flowing blonde hair and sunglasses at night. He was off topic more than he was on and I didn’t mind. I was along for the ride, listening to his stories until the last stop. “Valentines Day: every woman’s favorite holiday. Am I right, men?” He elaborated on how women like to feel loved “yadda yadda yadda.” I don’t remember; I’d stopped listening. His glance returned to me, expecting more smiles and nodding. I shot him a stone face. He corrected, “Well maybe not all women.”
I wanted to jump in and explain that Valentine’s IS one of my favorite holidays, but not for the reasons you assume, Sir! I wanted to tell him the story about my dad and the balloons!Read More
During my last workout of the year, the swimmer in the lane next to me frogged his legs out and almost kicked me a few times. It’s par for the course, but once or twice his hands skimmed my torso.
It startled me, if I’m honest—I felt a bit violated. “STAY IN YOUR LANE!” I yelled under the water.Read More
As we ambled along Newport, Rhode Island's Cliff Walk, soaking in the coastal breezes, my then-boyfriend (now husband) Steve announced, "someday we're going to bring little Sebastian here."
"Who's little Sebastian?" I asked.
"The dog we're going to get," he said matter-of-factly.Read More