At times, my writing focus is about as clear as swamp water. Sometimes I inadvertently go on a writing sabbatical. Things get in the way. When the “match” goes out, it’s like getting a D.C. politician to tell the truth challenging to restart the...
Verella awoke to the sound of her wrist ringing. Her wrist wasn’t really ringing, but the compact instrument strapped to it demanded her attention in a screechy, nagging tenor. “Yes?” she whispered groggily, pushing her RESpond button. Her other hand rubbed her temple...
My childhood as the only girl on an Arizona ranch could get downright lonesome. Television and radio reception were nonexistent, and all the wonderful gadgets of today weren’t yet invented. Friends were far away, so play dates and overnighters were as scarce as green...
One dreadful inspiring morning at a writing seminar long ago, I emerged from a face-to-face editor session feeling as though I were stepping out the door and onto a parade float. For a few minutes, I could have sworn I was wearing a pageant gown, a tiara, and a...