My Grandmother’s Rich Roots

We drove past her grandparent’s house, a house built before the 20th century, still standing there with its small barn amongst the neighborhood that has swallowed up the farmlands around it. On the tiny row of houses in “town,” she pointed out the...

When A New Book Project Glimmers

I don’t know how it happens for you – whether you’re like John Irving and know the last sentence to which you will write, or maybe you hear a character speaking in your mind, maybe it’s just something that gets you so fired up that you...

The Woman Who Haunts Our Home

Xander, our rooster, was crowing when I let Meander, our dog, out at 4:45am this morning.  I lay down on the coach to wait for Meander’s return from her pre-dawn jaunt, and I thought of the women who had walked these same boards before me.  Of Effie Tucker, the...