Back by popular demand and repeated request…published in High Desert Journal last year…the story of our ill-fated rafting trip down Hell’s Canyon…my essay Passing Through the Green Room…alternately titled, The Time My Husband Tried to Kill Me. (well, he didn’t mean to, and it did turn out to be a good story, after all) Click…
Of particular interest to anyone who has ever made-out in the back of a school bus…or wished they had…
An essay from my upcoming book, Chance of Sun: A Perfectly Imperfect Oregon Upbringing, is in this month’s Oregon Quarterly Magazine.
Today is the one-year anniversary of this blog! Bust out the champagne! Oh. It’s 6 am. Well. Coffee will do. Slip a little something in it, if you must. Here’s a Blooming Year One redux. First post: Popcorn Blog Inspiration: Late Bloomers Hero’s Challenge, Act I: Consult Foreshadowing: Free the French Fries Plot Twist:…
I recently bumped into the professional photographer who took my glamour shot—the headshot I’ve used for magazine bios and my website for the last few years. The photo is only four-and-a-half years old, but friends have been complaining that it doesn’t look like me anymore. (Aside: Chicken Noodle is also four-and-a-half years old. A coincidence…
The Universe must have heard my siren call to the aging process, my little shout-out to 39, because last weekend was one of those rare times when the stars aligned and every single thing that happened made me want throw my arms in the air and sing like Julie Andrews. Here’s how the hard facts…
I will be reading from my essay “Passing Through a Green Room”, recently published in High Desert Journal (see Fame vs. Fortune), at the High Desert Journal/tbd advertising downtown Bend Art Walk event tomorrow night, June 5, approx. 6:45 p.m., 856 NW Bond Street Suite 2, Bend. Would love to see some friendly faces! Because…
A friendly Sunday-morning plug for my friend Suzanne Burns’ poetry chapbook “Vacancy”, now available from Pudding House Press. She’s brilliant, has an uncanny ability to nail the absurd, and does her best writing from midnight to 3 a.m. That’s pretty much all you need to know. The prose-poems in this chapbook are fabulous. Even…
Six months ago I sat down and banged out an essay about my grandmother. It came easily in an hour or two, the fluid culmination of thoughts I’d had since her death nine years ago. Horizon Air picked it up and ran it in their January issue. I could not have predicted the response. Total…