The very awesome Linda Sue Park was in the neighborhood for an event and I was thrilled to have her come to the island for lunch and a catch up. She lives in Rochester, New York, almost as far away as one can get from Vashon Island, Washington, so we do not see each other nearly often enough. With her in the

I am writing and rewriting the author’s note for Will Sparrow’s Road. It’s always something. But this is the view from the window in front of me so things are good. Otis the cat is not chuffed about the weather but he does like to sneak out once in a while between raindrops and drink from a puddle. I sure

Last weekend we went to the sheepdog trials here on Vashon Island. We sat in a light drizzle and watched gallant dogs try to direct stubborn sheep from one end of the field, through some gates, and into a pen at the other end. The sheep do not want to cooperate. One of them—tired of being pushed around, I guess—turned and

Jennifer Holm must have an enchanted computer. She uses it to create fabulous books, one after the other: Penny from Heaven, Turtle in Paradise, Our Only May Amelia, the Babymouse books, and my new favorite, the splendid The Trouble with May Amelia. May Amelia is twelve years old in 1900, living with her large Finnish family near the Columbia River

I would like to do something different for my next book. What do you think about my writing a fantasy?  Light fantasy—maybe a weather witch and an enchantress, hedge witches and hags and the daughter of a wise woman. No vampires, no wizards, no walking dead. I am playing around with the idea but I hit a brick wall when I come to

I finally finished the revision of Will Sparrow’s Road and sent it off to Dinah, my editor. She responded “You did it!” which I take to mean I am done done done except for miscellaneous jots and quibbles. It’s a relief to have Will gone but I also feel a bit lonely and at loose ends. I need to come

Today is Phil’s 66th birthday. We have aged together and only grown closer. I had big plans to celebrate but he has come down with the flu so it’s imaginary cake, imaginary champagne, and imaginary hoopla. Happy birthday anyway, sweetheart. I am so glad you were born.

I just painted one wall of my writing space red. It’s actually a better red than in the photo but still might be too cherry for me. I love the idea and just wish I could see the wall from where I sit. I may have to paint all the walls red. I found a Benjamin Moore color called Bohemian

This is my daughter’s cat, Murphy. She weighs five pounds and has very big feet. Murphy is fearless. I once saw her stalk and terrorize a dog that had the nerve to come into her house and make himself at home. Murphy is 17 this month. Happy birthday, Murphala, Murphyola, Murphbucket, Murphster, Murph the Smurf, the Murph! You are tiny

The saying goes “nibbled to death by ducks” and I know exactly what that means. The last months have been filled with obligations, mostly small but time consuming.  The sun is shining today and I may, like Phil the groundhog, stick my head out and see what I see. More writing, less filler, I hope. I have new ideas galore.