Technical writers or non fiction writers scribble to pay the bills and for the love of the analytical or the exercise of truth or deception.

Fiction authors write to illuminate their world or escape it.

Whichever kind of writer, it's all about staying alive and helping or entertaining others.

The Writing Life

Like most writers, I have a love of reading and the power of words. When I was younger, I read everything I could get my hands on, but I don’t consider myself well read. I consumed books like a starved person, so quickly I hardly knew what I had read. By some strange process of osmosis, I learned from everything I read, but I cannot give you an erudite discussion of characters, plots, or authors. I can only tell you it’s lodged some where in the core of my being and informs my writing.

In addition to reading, I’ve spent a life time writing---from that first elementary school composition to my college days when I studied French literature and wrote explications de texte. Along the way, I fell into technical writing--to put food on the table and pay bills. In the 90s, I had the good fortune to take a dialog class with Sol Stein, former owner of Stein & Day publishers in New York and a prolific author. That led to his California-based writers’ group, Chapter One. It was a rigorous, ego-bruising experience, but I was intent on learning everything I could about fiction writing. A few years ago, I also had the good fortune to study with another writer, Louella Nelson, an experienced romance writer and teacher of fiction writing. She provided a different perspective and balance to my writing.

My novel, DREAMING OF LAUGHING HAWK, a mainstream, Sixties era novel, is available on Amazon in print and ebook (also available in Canada, Europe, Japan, and Brazil). Download a free sample. If you like it, I hope you'll download the book and post a review on Amazon.

Wednesday, June 8, 2016

Utah: Embracing Mother Earth

Most of us live in a crowded, fast-paced environment where we scramble to keep body and soul together. Our lives are preoccupied with acquiring the necessities of life: food, shelter, meaningful work, supporting our family and friends, and juggling all the complexities of modern life. It's easy to lose ourselves. We feel disconnected, frustrated, overwhelmed.

Perhaps this explains why people turn to nature. There is something about nature that touches us and refocuses our mind. A walk through a neighborhood park, a day at the beach, or a hike in the mountains can restore our equilibrium and change our perspective. We slip into Mother Earth's embrace.

Recently, I made a trip to Bryce National Park and Arches National National Park in Utah. I think Bryce was my favorite. It was a jewel of colors and bizarrely-shaped rocks. On the other hand, Arches with it's massive rock formations and sprawling desert lands was overpowering. It swallowed you whole. Intimate Bryce trails allowed visitors to wend their way through the crimson hoodoos down to the floor of the canyon. There is something magical abut losing yourself in nature because it allows you to find yourself.

Saturday, May 14, 2016

Papa: Hemingway in Cuba - Movie Review

It’s the late 50s and Ed Myers, a junior reporter at Miami Herald, writes a fan letter to Ernest Hemingway. A week later, to his complete disbelief, he receives an invitation from Hemingway and his fourth wife Mary to join them in Havana.

The movie was shot during the economic embargo at Finca Vigia, Hemingway’s actual home. It is based on an autobiographical script by Denne Petitclerc. The story is told from Petitclerc’s point of view through the character, Ed Myers.

So here’s the story. Abandonned by his father as a child, Ed Myers is in need of a father figure, and well, perhaps Hemingway was in need of an admiring son. It’s a rather tedious movie about Hemingway’s dark genius and his preoccupation in his later years with his sexual and creative impotence. Throw in the Cuban revolution for a little spice and the pursuit by an FBI agent who has it in for Papa. It’s still a rather bland stew punctuated by bouts of rage, paranoia, and alcoholism. The story has an uneven weave to it, like it was just swatches of dull dialog and actions patched together. I think there was more to Hemingway than this. While the locale is authentic and actor Adrian Sparks looks like Hemingway, something is definitely missing in the telling.

Friday, April 29, 2016

Definition of a Prince

Every strong and loving family cherishs their children, the princes and princesses of promise for a better future.

It has always been a dangerous world where evil and misfortune abound. Innocents perish and those that survive are often scarred for life physically, mentally and spiritually. Any child that has been blessed with health, the necessities of life, and loving parents is true royalty.

We marvel at our princes and princesses--their beauty, intelligence, and god-given gifts. We shelter them, impart our lessons of survival, encourage their development, discipline them to teach them the best human attributes. And then we remind them that their royal privilege comes with responsibility to their family, community, and the world. Noblesse oblige.

I like to think my grandson Jake has the makings of a true prince. He has gone from baby to boy it seems overnight. The next time I turn around he will be a young man. I hope that his high energy, sensitivity, and intelligence will translate into a man who will nobly serve the purposes of good in this world. The world needs good. That's what princes are for.

Monday, April 4, 2016

Psychic Ability in Life and in Fiction: the Four Clairs

Most of us tend to dismiss our sixth sense. We don’t trust it. We writers don’t even like to give our characters psychic abilities. Maybe we enjoy watching them blindly stumble along in their stories like we stumble along in our daily lives—totally unable to read the thoughts of others, to see beyond the tip of our nose. But is it truly like that?

There are four types of psychic intuition which we often refer to collectively as the sixth sense (in addition to the five physical senses):
  • Clairsentience (clear feeling)
  • Clairvoyance (clear seeing)
  • Clairaudience (clear hearing)
  • Claircognizance (clear knowing)

If you examine your own experiences, you may realize that you employ one or more of these metaphysical senses—perhaps not on a regular basis, but often enough that it should give you pause. Perhaps you and, if you are a writer, then your characters are a lot more complex than you thought.


Yes, that gut feeling that haunts you that is totally disconnected from logic. You pick up a vibe from a person or place, you empathize with others without speaking to them, you feel the presence of spirits or something odd. Perhaps you pick up a feeling from an object associated with a person or you notice a faint scent of tobacco or perfume associated with a person that is not physically in your presence.

Several years ago when I was on vacation I had a sudden premonition that a friend was in physical danger. I was very upset but I had absolutely no basis for my feeling. I just knew something was wrong. Upon returning home I learned that my friend had survived a motorcycle accident. The day of the accident was the same day I felt so overwrought with grief.


Perhaps you experience visions or visual flashes while awake or in dreams that allow you to see things which are hidden. Clairvoyants are often used by police departments to find missing people. They help people find lost objects. Has someone’s face flashed briefly before your eyes and then moments later you find yourself face-to-face with that person? Have you dreamed of a beautiful girl child as I did with my first daughter and then found that child entering your life nine months later?


Clairaudience is like having a mental inner ear or being tuned into a radio. Meditation, automatic writing, and telepathic communication are ways to get in touch with this metaphysical sense. The last time I recall experiencing this “clear hearing” in a big way was almost 20 years ago. We were on a Fourth of July camping trip with family in Minnesota. I was sitting in the entrance of our tent looking up at the bright blue morning sky and a voice said to me: “You will never come here again. It is over. Finished. You will never come here again.” Three months later my mother died unexpectedly from cancer and there was never another family trip to Minnesota. In truth, with my mother’s death, all was finished. The bonds with my stepsisters and stepfather quickly unraveled. I might also add that before my mother was diagnosed with cancer, I dreamed she was going to die. So while everyone was waiting for the diagnosis and treatment options, I already knew clairvoyantly that I had to prepare myself for her death. I could not bring myself to share this bleak news with anyone else. I was lucky to have this early warning because it was to be a very traumatic experience for me.


Sometimes information or sudden insights pop into your head in the form of predictions, dejà vu or premonitions and you feel absolutely certain about the correctness of the information. You just know. Can you immediately know when someone is lying to you even though you have nothing to support your feeling? Can you unexpectedly find an answer to a problem or something you are searching for?

I stare at my TV during election season and listen to all the blah-blah-blah coming out of the mouths of politicians. I know that they are lying and think that everyone else should know this too, but they don’t. I can hear the hollowness of their words. I see where this can go and it’s not good. There is a strange mantra ringing in my ears: May the evil they embrace consume them unto ashes. But most of all, I wonder about those who do not see, who do not know.

And that is where the tension lies—in life and in fiction—between those who have some intuition, but perhaps an unwillingness to trust it, and those who are blind. That is the making of a real story.

Monday, March 14, 2016

Short Fiction: I Must Be Crazy

My middle-aged daughter, Maria, tells me she is stressed out. She looks it. She acts like it. I think I know about stress. I raised two daughters and a son by myself after my husband was killed during the Korean war. I don't know what she's got going on in her life to be stressed about, but then again, I do. It's me. She and my son-in-law hate me for being old and dependent. She's angry I don't help with the cooking and cleaning. I don't know--how many people would hire a 90-year old to cook their meals and scrub their toilets? I'm tired. My brain doesn't always cooperate. Most of the time I don't understand what she's complaining about.

Friday, February 26, 2016

Would Jesus Support Trump?

These monkeys don't look as dangerous as the real ones
That’s the headline for an op-ed in a recent edition of the LA Times. The Republican Party is in appalling disarray thanks to Donald Trump and the media—and, of course, the party’s own unerring ability to shoot themselves in the foot. I’ve been a bit of a political junky since I attended my first Kennedy rally in Springfield, Illinois, but last night’s Republican debate was shameful no matter whom you ask. CNN did a poor job of monitoring the debate and the candidates embarrassed themselves and us.

Tuesday, February 2, 2016

The Valentine's Day Vampire Club

Sign up for the Write-Edit-Publish Valentine challenge (flash fiction, poetry, art, nonfiction . . . ) and publish your entry on your blog by February 17-19. Here's my take on Valentine's Day. Feel free to offer a full critique.

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We started as a small book club discussing our favorite novels once a month at a local coffee shop. Rain, snow, hungry kids, dirty dishes, work deadlines—we all showed up for the opportunity to escape our ordinary lives and vicariously live through the eyes of book characters. With time and familiarity, we moved on to wine and potlucks where we shared gossip and culinary skills.