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Writers write. I write all kinds of stuff. Little bits and pieces of stories, musings and observations, occasionally poetry. Welcome to a few of the random scribbles here.

Road Rash And Natalie Goldberg


On a breezy almost-summer day, I walked from the University of Minnesota to the Loft Literary Center to hear Natalie Goldberg speak (author of Writing Down the Bones, The Great Spring, and many other books). I was wearing a new sassy dress and feeling happy to hear one of my writing rock stars.

Then my sandal caught on the sidewalk edge and I could not catch myself. I biffed. Hard. My knee became my brake, using friction like a cheese grater to stop my momentum. The rough concrete sliced my fingers and hands. And if that wasn’t enough mortification, my flouncy dress was up over my butt for all of the Washington Avenue traffic to see.

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Writing Rock Stars


Meeting Candace Fleming (above) was pure luck, back in 2009. On the other hand, I stalked M. T. Anderson at a book fair once. With my children. They haven't forgiven me.

I’ll admit it, writers are my rock stars. But not just the famous writers. My writing critique group. My writing colleagues. The writers I teach in workshops. They’re committed. They’re enthusiastic. They’re talented. They’re learners. In my world, they all rock.

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Writing Thrills


Writing brings me joy. Mostly. Sometimes it also brings me to my knees with fear, frustration, anger, and disappointment. So, why ride this rollercoaster? One of the speakers at the Society of Children’s Book Writers and Illustrators (SCBWI) Midwest conference in Illinois this past weekend, nailed it for me when she said, “Writing is hard. NOT writing is even harder.”

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