Be. Here. Now, Now, Now.

I don’t know. I’m bringing this back out of mothballs simply because I need the reminder. BTW, for those who have expressed disgust because I choose to write about my mother from time to time, we’ve discussed this very post, Ma and I. It makes her...

As If I Were Some 350-lb. Linebacker

This is a post from way back when. I read it a couple of times to see if I still felt the same way. I hesitated to re-post this in light of the fact that Trump (don’t get me started) has put many a woman in defense mode by virtue of his being a complete alleged...

How To Sell A Crapload Of Books

While I was in the States this last go round, I had dinner with my friend Tim Vandehey, a ghostwriter who lives in Kansas City. I refer to Tim those folks who’d like to have a book, but aren’t the least bit interested in doing the associated work. Tim knows the...

When You Sell Yourself For Cheap

A long time ago, before I had children, my husband took a second wife. We were living in Washington, D.C., not the Islamic Republic of Iran, and I had nothing of real value to lose if I packed up and left. The other woman— an old girlfriend who, last I’d heard, had...

You + Imagination = Possible

I’m going to say something that scares the crap out of me.  Something that could draw the evil eye and smote me like Lot’s wife, the chick who turned to salt: I can’t believe that this is my life. Ten years ago, I could never have imagined the deal I’ve got...