Heading into the holiday, most of us will be surrounded by family, some like me will not, but the holiday vibe got me thinking about heritage, place and self-determination. How much of who we are is tied up in FAMILY – or community? How much in the FREEDOM to live the life we choose? Here are some online exhibitions to browse while pondering: Between Worlds at … Continue reading Art Crawl: Get me through this week!
Summer’s end. It’s a fitting time to talk about one of the most daunting challenges facing acoustic neuroma and other brain surgery patients: the pressure on family. In my experience, entire lifetimes are measured by “before the surgery” or “”after.” Everything changes: 1) Money gets scarce when the family budget meets a nonworking spouse and large medical bills. 2) The brain patient grows impatient. After … Continue reading Brain Surgery, meet Love
Crime, contacts . . . CRAFT! Killer Nashville was amazing. Above, see the featured image with Max Allan Collins, the master writer behind Road to Perdition and about a million other projects, plus now Quarry. The workshops were just . . . well—like POISONS, State Department protocols, Noir, Police Procedures, Contracts and Humorous Thrillers. Because you NEED humor when you figure out what this contract … Continue reading Unreal
Knock me over with a feather. I’ve been awarded the Lisa Jackson Scholarship to attend Killer Nashville, all expenses paid. It’s a huge con for my genre that I’ve always wanted to attend but could never quite swing the airfare, hotel, fees and time off. This is a dream come true, thank you Ms Jackson and Scholarship Committee! The con has sessions on … Continue reading A Killer Weekend
Writing. In daily life it feels selfish. We all have jobs, commitments and family. We all have to give ourselves permission to “waste” hours that could have been better-spent cleaning house, studying up for a promotion, or going out with the kids. In my case, having just separated I feel the pressure to be both parents. When the separation first happened, I felt guilty about … Continue reading Permission