I love watching the neighborhood kids play because they go about it like my brother and I used to, riding their bikes like the hounds of hell are on their heels, tearing up the alleys, ducking in and out of yards, or streaking down sidewalks. 


Since my father passed March third, I’ve been making a weekly trip to Raleigh to help Mom with everything from estate finances to dragging her trash and recycle bins to the curb.  Before my father’s death, I’d always made an effort to go see the


Blank.  Vacant.  Meaningless. Those three words describe the current situation with my latest WIP.  This will be the fourth book I’ve written – if I ever get it done.  I felt like this with the last one too, and I did finish it, so yay,


You’re sitting at your computer, focused, about to open your manuscript.  Your word count goal for the day is planned, and you’re determined to move the story forward.  You’re ready because, as recommended by many other successful writers, you purposefully stopped at a “good” spot


A painful reminder came this past week of what I call, “the terrible summer.”  Of what happened to Bella and Kiwi.  All those wretched feelings I thought I’d sufficiently managed with such tight control, came again, flattening out my mood and my spirit, as if


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