Reflections on Writing, Traveling, and Food
There were all the race medals I was so proud of, years of hard work, training, and memories. Some of those years, I raced with joy, feet pounding the pavement, rhythm in my heart. Others were beset with injury, pain, frustration, even heartache and tears. Then came the coronavirus and a slew of endings. Races
Writers talk a lot about writer’s block. They post about it, tweet about it, cry about it. To be honest, I don’t know what writer’s block is. Am I sometimes unable to find words? Sure, but I don’t know if I should dignify my inability to get words down on paper as writer’s block. After
I grew up with music. It was as much my nourishment as the toasted peanut butter sandwiches and gallons of milk my brother and I would consume daily, much to the annoyance of my mother who was forever asking, “Who finished the milk and didn’t tell me?” Leaving a lone two-ounce sip in the jug
Those of you who know me will remember that we lost our beloved Australian Shepherd, Piper, after fifteen years. Some find the grief overwhelming and are unable to cope with the thought of another pet. Ever. Others cannot cope with the gaping hole left, the empty home, empty heart, looking around every corner and in
I am of the era that wore/wears a watch. Much as I love technology, I don’t depend on my phone for the time. After all, a watch is an accoutrement of fashion, one I feel half-dressed without. Currently, I have four. I wear them because they are fun and pretty, and if I’m being honest,
Many bloggers are busy writing end-of-the-year or New Year’s posts, something that we all tend to do this time of the year. This year especially, I think we all want to bid 2020 a not-so-fond farewell. I too wanted to write something about the New Year but found myself struggling, wondering how to motivate but
The vaccination is coming. Aside from obviously looking forward to keeping everyone safe from illness and getting our lives back, I personally am hoping to never wear a mask again. I hate them. I hate the feeling of not being able to breathe and the accompanying feeling of panic. I hate how hot I feel
Writing is one of my greatest joys. It’s a part of me, something I can’t live without. Even though I haven’t previously done a whole lot with it, I continued to write. But when I finished my first book, decisions had to be made. Was I willing to write hundreds of query letters in the