I am not really into self promotion for promotion sake. Remember that plant in the Little Shop of Horrors that kept saying “Feed me Seymour”? I feel like a lot of book marketing is social media posts of book covers over and over, saying “Read Me Seymour.” I don’t know about you, but that never…
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A Fallen Warrior for Healing.
Jennifer Golick’s office held small toys, silly comics, stress balls and board games to put her clients at ease. She said things in a straight forward, I’m–not-kidding kind of way. At the same time she made folks feel people so accepted, they could hear the truth without being knocked down by it. She…
Words That Build.
Thursday, and I’m spending the day at Mt. Zion/UCSF Hospital, for a myriad of appointments (all fine. Diagnosis= aging.) I’m a well experienced medical appointment attendee: my mother had a chronic illness from the time I was born until she passed when I was thirty, and my daughter also manages (with grace) a difficult…
The Accidental Romance Writer
Am I an accidental romance writer? I say accidental, because I didn’t set out to write a romance. I wrote about the characters who popped up in all my short stories: A man who is half in love with his horse; a woman he used to love; his mother who drinks to much; her…
Your Steps Alone
In the airport, waiting for another delayed flight, and Jerry Garcia is singing in my earbuds. When you’re waiting for a miracle. I find myself reflecting on the things we wait for, and the roads we take. About thirty years ago I took my college degree, two suitcases and a back pack full of journals…
Back in New Orleans.
I walk through the teaming, busy streets of New Orleans, jazz notes always playing, as if the sidewalks themselves ooze with music. It is twelve years post Katrina, and thoughts of the recent California fires, our fires, come to mind. I cannot help but compare the two. The last time I visited, a year…
Dear Santa. What the world needs now…
Buy me no baubles and I’ll save you the trinkets. Here are the gifts we really need this holiday season. This gifts we give all year. This gifts for which we forget to send thank you notes. The gifts that shape the giver. My Christmas list for the world. The gift of listening.…
Warm Tidings on a Cold Winter’s Night
On any given moment as I traverse our beautiful Sonoma square a dozen emotions can rise – amazement that the square is unscathed, sadness for the many children who lost their homes but still decorate the square with their art, hope for the world if one community can find a way through devastation with…
Ancient Dreams
I rise early on winter mornings, puzzling over my chaotic dreams, trying to make out the path through the forest of my mind. It’s there, if I give it my attention. Last night’s version: A young guy asks me if I want to get high. Strangely, I agree. We keep searching for a hiding…
Lifting up the part of our community hit the hardest.
In the aftermath of the fire, folks ask us, “How is it up there? Are people starting over? Are they finding places to live?” Yes, our friends are returning to their homes, our home is safe, the friends that lost their homes have found temporary places to stay. And…