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Self-Publishing to Traditional: One Writer’s Journey

For my writer friends asking how it’s going switching my memoir from being self-published to traditional publishing, I thought I might give some ongoing reports. It’s quite a journey for me, and a lesson in loosing up control. In many ways that part is difficult for me, but in more ways it is a freeing experience.

First, I have to say that the excitement of having my first book published by Seal Press (April 2013) is sometimes overwhelming.  It is the dream I had when I labored over the manuscript for four years. But, that’s not a new story for any writer.… Read more

End of #Summer Reminiscence

August takes me back to remembering the last dog-days of summer in the past when I would be scurrying from store to store to find that perfect backpack for my son, the cool sneakers he would wear, a new pair of jeans.

By the time he hit Junior High I was wistful for his elementary school years when I could suit him up in anything I liked and he would be pleased and happy for the new duds and supplies. Excited even to pack his mini backpack with all the pencils and erasers and rulers it could carry. Ready to get on with it and learn!

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Oh, Sister

I was back in my hometown in New Jersey this past weekend for my high school reunion, which was surprisingly wonderful. The town brings back all my memories of growing up with my mom and dad and sister. On my last visit I scattered my parents’ ashes in the river that runs through the town. They died within months of each other so that it was possible for a double feature, so to speak.

On this trip, I planned to do the same with my sister Linda’s ashes, which had been her request, but complications in getting the ashes and family together got in the way. … Read more

The Last Straw (Spoon, that is)

When we were kids, my dad used to make a killer chocolate ice cream soda. I’ve tried to replicate it many times, but something is always missing. He would gather my sister Linda and I in the kitchen and sit us down to wait, narrating while he gathered his ingredients. Chocolate ice cream, or vanilla if that’s all we had. He wasn’t strict about the flavor. Milk, chocolate sauce, seltzer. He’d mix each one separately and then taste test it before giving it to us.  We sat on our hands, our legs sticking to the plastic seat covers of our kitchen chairs, waiting not-so-patiently. … Read more