Novels change us from within.

I am feeling frayed at the seams with grief over senseless death. We lost a young family friend who was only 28 years old yesterday. She was severely autistic. Her language was minimal, but she had the gift of bringing joy to everyone she met. Perhaps, it was her innocence, her special smile, or her…

Writing. Writing is like going into a vortex or a wormhole to a little piece of heaven. I question writing all the time, but when deep in writing, it’s definitely magical. Alice Hoffman (another favorite author) quotes: “A Book is proof that humans are capable of working magic.” When I have finished a book, a bit of the magic wanes until the excitement of crafting and editing fills me to work and re-work and create a better piece

Last weekend, I finished the 5th book in The Green Man Series. Is the story finished?

When the world is dark and quiet, and everyone is asleep, you lie there, jealous of the sounds of the sleeping humans and animals near you. In some ways, you feel lucky to enjoy the peace and solitude of the night. But, you know, later in the day, the gritty eyes, the fatigue, and no time to rest will strike a negative chord in the day.