Mirrorball, an anthology of writing inspired by Taylor Swift's Folklore coming soon to a bookshelf near you! EastOver Press will publish...

August of anxiety, August of anticipation. August of projects summer didn't complete. August in our house also means three significant...

I grew up in a bookstore that also sold records and cds. Edit to add: I was (I think) 14 when Books, Strings & Things opened on the...

I spent a couple of days at Semiahmoo Resort over the holiday break writing, thinking about writing, organizing my novel, setting up a...

I met them at the Community of Writers in California. Summer of 1998, a strangely cool August. Leonid meteor shower just over Squaw Peak,...

I have given up precious words of the year because, really, I don't remember my Word of the Year in July when I'm going through it. There...

Still gonna do it. My novel began as a NaNoWriMo project, formed from an idea I conjured after crying a lot at work one day back in...

It's been a rough, rough two years. I lost my dad just before COVID crept over to the U.S. I lost my friend Michael shortly thereafter. I...

I don't exactly know how or why it happened—I don't even know what day it was—but for reasons that are part mystery part pandemic brain,...

Tim wasn't always the kindest, gentlest soul. He would be the first to admit that he was prickly, often misanthropic, frustrated by the...

The light after the rainstorm was perfect—low and golden, lighting up the horizon and filling the sky with rainbows. Rainbows are...

She would want this to be hilarious, but there's just nothing funny about losing her. Our bright, brilliant Shouter...

We're all feeling a bit worn down right now. But there's hope shining through the holes.

Gratitude journals are for the winsome and sad scrabbling for hope. Here's mine. On politics—it can feel impossible and not be, not by a...

1978 haunted my mailbox with a ghost of Christmas past. Mom, is that you? The year: 1978. The scene: an overwarm kitchen in Virginia with...

Is anyone calm right now? I washed the windows today as the Germans taught me—no Windex (sorry, dad)—just dish soap and water. I dusted....

Like a bottle of wine. 'Cause you were never mine. It was a summer of recovering from injury, of discovering new places and secret...

I don't think of it as not-winning, I think of it as almost-winning. Maybe that says a lot about me, but I was the finalist for the Black...

X-R-A-Y has just an amazing thing going. They celebrate beautifully condensed flash with brilliant images, flash that stops your heart. I...