Last winter, as my daughter and I spent another chilly afternoon lounging around indoors, Sunshine babbling and me responding as if she had spoken in actual sentences, I pictured all the conversations we might have when she was old enough to string more than two real...
Before Sunshine was born, the only portraits I had taken were candids at family gatherings and a few newsy items for my high school paper. Well, plus that one ill-advised attempt at senior portraits, a cheesy set of shots of my best friend leaping over a stream in the...
Please welcome super-talented author Marilyn Brant, who’s here to talk about her newest book, Friday Mornings at Nine. I finished it recently, and I loved it – possibly even more than her first book, According to Jane, which won the prestigious RWA Golden...
I’m working on a new novel. To be clear, by “working on” I mostly mean “gazing into space” and “playing computer solitaire”. On occasion, though, I do actual plotting. I’ve even created a few characters and half a...
“Just…one?” The hostess eyes me, a long sweeping look, as if trying to figure out what’s wrong with me that I have to eat out alone. I used to answer, “Yep!” with a smile, all peppy and bright and for God’s sake don’t...
Please welcome guest blogger Marilyn Brant, who is not only a lovely friend and avid blogger, but also author of the hilarious, romantic, and moving new book According to Jane. The story of a young woman who receives advice – some good and some questionable...
Other than the occasional college hand-me-down, garage sale find, or unnecessary kitchen appliance, my main contribution to our household’s decorating scheme comes in book form. Hardcover, paperback, electronic – if you can read it, I’ve probably...
After reading Eileen Cook’s new book What Would Emma Do? in one fun-filled weekend, I knew I had to invite her back for another interview. Fortunately, she consented to indulge my nosiness about her book, her writing process (or lack thereof) and the land of...
My husband and I lie back-to-back on the hotel bed, neither moving in case the other is finally on the cusp of sleep. No talking, no fidgeting. Those are the rules. Like most motels, a blaring yellow light floods the concrete walkway outside our door. It spills around...
My dearest blogosphere, In the words of a pen pal from my elementary days, how are you? I am fine. Mostly. I know that it has been ages since I’ve written, but I promise that there are reasons, many of which are even valid. For one thing, blogging minus the...
