Musings

Though I’ve been accused of not leading a cutting-edge life, I actually experiment with the latest internet fad in a Wordle Hurdle.

Since I’ve posted my opinions and thoughts for so many years, it’s embarrassing to admit to changing my mind about things I’ve proclaimed.

As I struggled to walk in our snow, a teenager running on ice reminded me of the joys of youth and the bruises and scars it causes.

After our two-year experiment of living on the coast, we are back in our beloved mountains choosing snowstorms over hurricanes.

After experimenting with different writing approaches, I have found the pen is mightier than the keyboard thanks to a little technology help.

Any author will tell you the most common question we receive is “Where do stories come from?” I can’t explain it so much as demonstrate it.

Appalachian Mountain weather is notoriously hard to predict, but temperatures high enough to invite a mosquito for Christmas are unusual.

Writing stories requires me to be on a computer every day, so it makes it hard for me to understand who isn’t online shopping for Christmas.

Last week, the day the computers died, a key part of the internet stopped working. The horrors of a disconnected world were only beginning.

December brings not only holiday merriment but time to reflect on my author goals for the upcoming year, including publishing a half-million words.

The classic movie Le Ballon Rouge (The Red Balloon) had a bouncing toy befriend a boy. My recent experience with a silver balloon, however, makes me question the uplifting tale.

The earth circles the sun in a year and rotates in a day, but weeks have no natural rhythm. What is up with the weirdness of weeks?