© Shelley Steinle, illustrator.
A year ago I lost my purr.
At the time, I didn’t think of it that way. I was suffering the side effects of a concussion. All summer long I’d been unable to enjoy the activities that helped me feel fulfilled.
- Limited screen time, which meant little to no computer/TV/Kindle/phone usage.
- Reading was difficult because of eye strain and blur.
- I mean, really, even thinking was a chore.
What’s a writer-woman to do? Continue reading
May I rest on my laurels a little here? It’s still summer . . . the season to be outside inhaling the ocean air, embracing every sunset, following the sunflowers, laughing with the hummingbirds, basking in the sun.
And, to sit on a laurel or two. Continue reading
A long long time ago, in a land now distant and far removed, girls vied to be finalists in their communities.
Finalists in what, you ask? Continue reading
Perhaps it’s big magic, perhaps it’s many small great things, but for the good of the commonwealth, I choose to think it’s the origin of us all.
Before the fall, when the summer sun seems like the light of Paris, and cerulean and lavender seem like every day true colors, circumstances of childhood don’t matter. If we have bags, we travel. Our nemesis – winter – is conquered, and we believe that today will be different. Continue reading
I don’t talk with my hands.
Why should I? I’m a writer and a lover of words. No hand expressions are needed if the words are right when talking about writing.
Oh, how wrong I am. Continue reading