• Book Review!

    Book blogger, Mrs. Condit Reads Books, posted a super nice review of RULE NUMBER ONE today. Please come by and check out what she has to say. If you leave a comment, you’re automatically entered into a drawing for a free e-copy of the book. Love to have you stop by and talk to me!

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  • A Letter to Cameron

    My Dearest Grandson, Being a parent didn’t prepare me for grandparenthood—I know that sounds silly, but it is so true. Of course, all the basic baby care stuff is there. I know how to change your diaper, feed you a bottle, pat you through a tummy ache, and snap up your onsie. What I wasn’t prepared for was the overwhelming love I feel for you, little guy. And it’s different from the love I feel for your daddy not more intense, just different. When your dad was born, I knew from his first breath that he would be always be the love of my life and he is. I tried…

  • Memos (Borrowed Ideas Are the Sincerest Form of Flattery…)

    My friend Lora at LitDiva does a nifty thing each month called Memos that I find fun and charming and witty. I thought I’d give it a try here. So, with a nod to LitDiva, here goes. Dear Mother Nature, I’m over the drought and the heat wave. The lake water was 90 degrees this weekend—really too warm to be all the refreshing. Temps in 100s and 90s can stop now. Swelteringly yours, Nan   Dear Walmart, Love, love your Spring Valley Glucosamine/Chondroitin orange creme chews. Ever since I started using them, my arthritic  knees and hips actually move immediately when I rise from a seated position instead of  having…

  • The Editor/Author Dilemma

    I’ve been trying to figure out why it’s so hard for me write at the moment. It’s not that the books aren’t there. My brain is so full that frequently I have to stop whatever I’m doing, find a scrap of paper and a pencil, and make notes, or my head might explode. The stories are in me, churning and trying to find an outlet, even if it’s nothing more than a post-it and 10 minutes at the kitchen table in between lake laundry and tossing a salad for supper. So why, when I sit down to actually write, can I not translate all these little chunks of paper covered…