By now many of you have had a chance to read One Mountain Away. If you haven’t, an important element of the novel involves Charlotte Hale, the principal character, who is looking back at her life. Charlotte isolates three things she did in the past that she wishes she could change, then she sets about making amends for each of them, doing something in each instance to help make up for the damage she caused.
Journey Into the Lives of Women, One Story at a Time.
Writers on the Beach
I’m at the Novelist’s Inc. conference on St. Pete Beach this week, with old friends and new. I attended last year and learned more in a day than I’ve learned in all the previous conferences I’d ever attended. So back I went.
Ever wonder what writer’s talk about when we’re together?
Sunday Poetry: The Nothingness of Air
Welcome to Sunday Poetry. If this is your first visit you can read about the purpose and inspiration of my Sunday blogs here.
Today’s poem, Song for Autumn by Mary Oliver seems perfect for mid-October, when the anticipation of winter is always with us, even on days when summer seems to be asserting itself, although briefly.
Sunday Poetry: Her Worried Summer Look
Welcome to Sunday Poetry. If this is your first visit you can read about the purpose and inspiration of my Sunday blogs here.
Mother, Summer, I by Philip Larkin, linked here to The Writer’s Almanac online, is a “different” look at summer’s end. I’ve posted it this morning after a magnificent set of thunderstorms rolled in across Chautauqua Lake last night and kept everyone but the most exhausted members of this vibrant community awake in wonder.
CHUsday: Old Blogs, Old Faithful Recipes
Summertime and the living is, well, BUSY!! I just taught two classes and need to focus on my next book, so this week, just like on your TV set, you’ll be getting re-runs. Today and Friday I’m featuring blogs from spring of 2009, when many of you weren’t reading here. In the spirit of CHUsday, here’s an old recipe, and looking back, I can’t remember making it in the past six months.
Gone Fishin’
I’ll be back by Sunday for Sunday Poetry . . . But breathing deeply here today. Hope you’re doing the same.
Ah. . .
Sunday Poetry: Spring
Welcome to Sunday Poetry. We began this page in March, and if you didn’t join us then, don’t worry. This is a drop-in, drop-out adventure. You can read about the purpose and inspiration behind Sunday Poetry here.
What’s your part? Just slow down a little and come along for the read–or sometimes, for the listen.
Paradise Lost? Be Careful, Or Your Library Could Disappear. . .
Recently I had the pleasure of driving through the neighborhood where I grew up. Trips into the past are always bittersweet. Show me a slide-show and I wouldn’t be able to pick out the tiny one-story house where I spent most of my childhood. Pink and gray shingles have been covered with dark wood.
Drumroll Please . . .
Thanks to all who participated in my Favorite Things giveaway by commenting here at Southern Exposure. I really loved reading what you had to say. You certainly cheered up anybody who took the time to read about the things that make you happy. Random.org selected five winners and those readers will receive an autographed novel or quilt pattern book of their choice.
The Wise Man Star
As my Christmas gift to you, I want to share a passage from Fugitive, my novel published in the 1990s, as I did last year. Tate, the heroine, has moved to a cabin on land in the Ozark mountains, left to her by a father she never knew. This is an entry from his journal.