A Blurred History

One of my favorite parts of teaching is examining the strange relationship of history and popular culture. History, myth, and historical ref...

Fifty followers! Hooray (and thank you!) From my first post, I loved blogging (because hey, it's writing) but wondered whether anyone wo...

Dreams are great - they're more than great, they're vital. However, sometimes we can let dreams morph into delusions that lull us in...

There have been some interesting posts recently that discuss expectations , jealousy , and ideas about navigating the emotional rollercoast...

I'm blogging from the homestead, Ashland, Wisconsin - small town settled on the South Shore of Lake Superior. I'm here because my ba...

Those of you connected to the book/writing world are probably, like me, all too aware that the BEA takes place this week. Those readers not ...

As a faculty member I'm expected to attend the annual commencement ceremony at the liberal arts college where I work. I'm a new empl...

I was a girl who dreamt of horses. Every Christmas and birthday that came around would find me leaving a carefully-folded sheaf of paper (or...

First: Writers' conferences rock my world. At least this one. I've already met amazing people - agents, editors, authors and those a...

Since my last post celebrated Neil Gaiman's Newberry, I thought I'd trot out my too-frequent thoughts about a real life encounter wi...

Writing doesn't completely represent a new way of life for me. It's more of a dream revisited. My writing is nearly as old as any of...