Reflections on Writing, Traveling, and Food
Walking the beach the day before a hurricane is just something South Floridians do. Call us crazy, but we know we will be shut indoors for an interminable amount of time, so we need to make the best of the hours we have left before the storm is upon us. Additionally, there is great excitement
I’m driving south on A1A this beautiful July day in South Florida—feeling strangely illicit. Like so many others, I’m still working from home, and my husband has been kindly doing all the shopping while I work my way through the final edits of my book. With the exception of my morning run, I’m almost never
It’s a very big birthday for me today and a very strange one at that. In the past, for every decade that rolled by, I would promise myself I was going to make it a big celebration. These promises never reached fruition for one reason or another, usually because I didn’t have the money for
Rarely do I have an opportunity for purposeless activity. If I’m running, I’m training. If I’m driving, I’m going to work, grocery shopping, or to some sort of appointment. If I’m reading, I’m studying. If I’m at the computer, I’m working or writing. Even my free time is filled with purpose. Our lives have become
Over the years, I’ve made friends with many writers through social media. I wouldn’t recognize more than a handful of them if I passed them on the street, yet I feel that over time, I’ve come to know them personally through recurring themes evident in their books, social media, and blog posts. These identifiers are
I was fortunate . . . for a while, but now, I guess you could say I’m of an age where I’ve begun to go to more funerals. Beyond losing one much-loved cousin—barely out of her twenties—to breast cancer, I hadn’t really lost anyone close to me. But soon, death, a snowball, became an avalanche.
Much has happened since last we met, oh say, almost two years ago! I’ll blame a larger percentage of my blogging derailment on a career change. I was finally, after years of applying, give an opportunity to teach college English which turned out to be all-consuming. As of January 1st, however, I was offered a
One of my first assignments this term for my MFA lyric essay class is to keep a weekly journal. Despite my love of writing and despite the purchase of all the cute journaling accoutrements—colored pens, journal with writerly mantra on the cover, and irresistible Etsy stickers—I have not, as yet, been able to discipline myself