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Exciting News! A draft version of the first chapter of my novel, Rooting for Time, just won an honorable mention in the Chicago Writers’ Association First Chapter Contest! I will be reading aloud from that first chapter tomorrow night, 12.2.2022, at the Driftless Writing Center‘s Online Open Mic. Together, these two things feel like a

I. Slow, steady flame warm golden glow softening honey-scented beeswax. Dripping oozing pooling hardening. Attaching carved metal votive holder to the wood of the altar. Claiming the territory, staking the past configuration to the next. Perhaps awaiting conflagration. II. Is that what’s coming? Conflagration? Certainly in the dry forests of the Pacific Northwest. Then there’s

At a writing retreat with Miriam Hall last week, this flowed out during a 15-minute free-write, in response to something another participant had read aloud. She wrote and wrote and wrote and wrote and wrote and wrote and wrote. She wrote truth and she wrote fiction, analysis and speculation, memoir and imagination, dreams and information.

Those of you who know me well know I grew up believing I couldn’t sing. In general, as a child I was encouraged to focus on areas where I could excel. If you couldn’t do something spectacularly well, why bother trying? After all, talent was considered inborn. You either had a nice voice, or you