The thunder sounded like someone throwing firecrackers up against the window. The rain fell in cycles of noise, like a crowd doing the wave in a huge stadium. Then I heard another sound, faint, hidden under everything else, but suddenly very much there.
Continue reading “The Night I Heard a Tornado Siren and Ignored It”
Each child at the Thanksgiving program stood from their seat and said what they wanted to be when they grew up. My children happened to go first.
Cade rose, a smile on his face, and proudly proclaimed: “Writer!”
Then Lucy, always a little bashful, always looking for that thin ray of acceptance: “Librarian.”
For the last few weeks, these have been the career choices. Not too long ago they were policeman and gardener. And before that something else. Continue reading “What My Son Wants to be When He Grows Up”
A teenage girl walks into the bathroom and vomits quietly into the sink, tiny flecks of her barely existent lunch sticking to the mirror. When she looks into the glass, she sees a stranger. She sits on the toilet and puts her face in her hands.
Then she sees it – on the floor, written on a torn scrap of toilet paper, a note to her from someone who loves her. Continue reading “The Bible: Notes of Love, or Charges Made By a Disappointed Father?”
What’s in a name?
Today it’s time for a little game: can you guess the literary characters my children are named after? Free copies of my new book, “My Amish Roots” are up for grabs. Continue reading “What’s in a Name?”
There aren’t too many fields where the bad stuff is usable. If food spoils, a chef can no longer use it. If a business overspends based on its budget, a lot of work goes into making the situation right. If concrete hardens and the surface isn’t level, it must be broken up, removed, and replaced.
Not so when it comes to writing and life.
“One of the wonderful things about being a writer is that everything – even the bad stuff – is usable.” J.A. Jance Continue reading “The Worst Thing You Can Do When Telling Your Own Story”
“I have idiots for friends,” was a thought that passed through my mind more than one time yesterday as we plowed through the Tri-State Tough Mudder in New Jersey. The cold water, the mud, the 12-mile course…all took a mental and physical toll as the afternoon proceeded.
The thing is, the phrase “idiots for friends” began taking on a different tone as the day progressed. Continue reading “Tough Mudder Recap – Idiots for Friends”
