From My Makeshift Office on the Farm: Getting the Writing Right!
Last night I slept on an air mattress in an unfurnished farmhouse at the edge of the Baraboo Bluffs. From my makeshift office on the front porch, I listen to…
Last night I slept on an air mattress in an unfurnished farmhouse at the edge of the Baraboo Bluffs. From my makeshift office on the front porch, I listen to…
“Never had much money . . . but I lived like a millionaire.” Jane Vanderbosh Inspired by my late friend and fellow writer, Jane, I decided in December of 2001,…
What happens when your biggest dream becomes a re-occurring nightmare? Imagine you are in first grade and more than anything in the world you want to learn to read…
“Forgive me Father for I have sinned it has been over thirty years since my last confession.” It had, in fact, been thirty-three years! “And what,” Father B asked, “brought…
I cannot speak for other writers, only for myself, yet I’ve heard others say what I am about to say: that is . . . if you can possibly choose…
What Writing Means to Me: Truth Tempered With Love On the eve of my eleventh birthday, I informed my mother that I wanted to be a writer. I had just…
Recently, I reconnected with my sister whom I had not spoken with in many years. Though we live thousands of miles apart, we soon found ourselves laughing, despite tears. In…