Saturday, August 12, 2017



Things trended down when my doctor uttered a couple of words I didn't like. Cancer cells.

And then, and then.

He offered hope in the form of surgery, recovery, and a challenge.

Hope is a funny thing.

And so is irony.

Years ago...I'm talking high school...I forgot to return a library book.

Okay, forgot is a strong word.  More like, refused.  Because I liked a quote and kept it.

Thanks, Em.

Turns out, this life is all about traveling from hope to hope. It's the thing with feathers, perching inside us, ready to sing, never's the thing that gets us from cancer cells to taking in the joy of his smile, her chatter, his silly riddles, their slap happy laughter.   

I've spent the summer basically with my grandchildren.  After a quick trip to Mexico to get most of my stomach removed, I've been healing, and hoping, and reaching for a firm grasp on what the rest of my life might be like P.C.  Post cancer.

And it looks pretty good.  Actually, it looks way past good.  
I'm heading north, joy to joy.  Getting younger every day.  Not planning to stop at all.

Tuesday, January 3, 2017

A New Year--Full of Possibility

Where does courage come from?

I've submitted so many manuscripts to agents and publishers over the years, and have many  more rejection letters than acceptance contracts.

Don't call me ungrateful...

Steel Will is still in the marketplace, and that makes me happy.

Not Alone is still in the marketplace, and that makes me happy.

Many of my journal articles are still out there.

But the piece that I'm rooting for is the piece I'm working on right here, right now.

It's like a new baby.

I want to show it off to the world.

I want others to ooh and aah at its beauty and wonder.

I want it to change the way the reader thinks, feels, or views the world.

Wishes and dreams surround my current work.

Wishes and dreams.

Thank you, friends, for your support.

You've believed in me when I've had little faith of my own.

Do I have something to say?

When do you ever feel confident or competent in your ability to write?

It's one of the few vocations that takes and takes and takes.

Yet I can't set it aside.

I can't not write.

So I'll keep going.

But would you cross your fingers for me?

And maybe a few toes?

Shout out a wish to a shooting star?

Toss some salt over your shoulder?

Kiss a penny?

Thank're what I'm grateful for...xox