My grandmother Helen took each of her 16 grandchildren anywhere in the continental United States. She packed us into airplanes one at a time when we turned 12. This way we would be old enough to appreciate the trip without our parents but young enough to have discounted airfare. Grandma said she saw the Disneyland… Read more
The Shiner I awoke with my face on the smooth concrete floor and a hideous low moaning sound in my ears. In case you didn’t know, the climate in Juarez is dry. Bone dry. The kind of dry where even I can drink gallons of water and hardly ever need the little girls’ room. This… Read more
“Well, there was a scorpion on my bed. I got kinda freaked and picked it up in the pajama pants I wasn’t wearing. Had to move it somehow.” The teenager looked at me from her top bunk. Ceiling fans swung above us providing the only relief from the Ciudad Juarez summer temperatures that hovered around… Read more
The burning ache in the top vertebrae of my neck began after two hours. Unfortunately, I wasn’t done painting the kitchen and dining room ceilings in two hours. It took about six hours of effort over two days of my Independence Day holiday. Owning a home, I long ago discovered, is not for those who… Read more
Reassurance up front: I won’t tell the stories from this place that you don’t want to hear. Because as much as you don’t want to hear them, I don’t want to tell them that much more. One night a few years ago, I stood in front of a small audience at the Tacoma Public… Read more
My writing froze over the last few months. What’s worse, I also could not seem to get into a story to read. I slowed in March to a reading and writing crawl and then, in April, virtually stopped. I could blame many things, including an extra splash of day job stress and a bad experience… Read more
So here’s a thing that happens to me with writing. If I write something awful, starting the next piece feels like wading through a muck-filled bog. “What if it stinks of skunk cabbage like last time?” I ask myself. If I write something wonderful, starting the next piece feels like wading though a muck-filled bog. “It can never be… Read more
Dear Readers- I’m going to try too much in this post. I’m going to tell you of youth and beauty, of talent and hard work, and of a failed audition. I’m going to tell you of the Russian, of the day my dad died, the day another dad hugged his daughter, and why teachers matter. It’s… Read more