Waiting for the Crash

I’m the first to admit I do not understand NASCAR racing. The pits look exciting—how fast the crew does its magic and gets the driver back on the track. But going around a circle endlessly on a Sunday afternoon? I guess I’m a destination driver. The creeping cautions?...

Mama Says #38

Me? Personally, I like seasons. Not extreme ones, mind you, but gentle indications of movement through the seasons of my life. Mom hates winter too much to put up with it in exchange for surprises of spring and fall. Her weather report from south Florida is usually...

Who Decides a Book’s Title?

I like to tell people the titles of my new books. I just don’t always know the titles. Here’s how it goes. A writer pulls her hair out trying to come up with a zinger of a title that will grab an agent or editor’s attention. Then you sell the project—which may or may...

One Reason to Read Your Old Notes

Old notes follow you around. I had this note about bindweed written in a small notebook for about a year. Then I ripped it out of the notebook and put it in a folder in my office for a long time. I keep looking at it. It’s about bindweed. I made the note one day after...