Tag Archives: Writing

How I Write

When my friend Dani Stone (freelance writer and short story author extraordinaire) asked me if I’d already participated in the How I Write blog hop, I had no idea what she was talking about. To which she replied, “SWEET ACTION.” ¬†And this is why I love Dani. Our Facebook IMs are epic, and often resultRead More

A Writer’s Prayer

A Writer’s Prayer

I’m not one to seek conflict, but I often find that when confronted with an accusation through written word, my response is less than Christlike. This is my prayer, that I might use my gifts to build Him up, and not tear others down. Lord, you have blessed me with the gift of language. TheRead More

My 50 minutes of fame on the BBC (while wearing sweatpants)

My 50 minutes of fame on the BBC (while wearing sweatpants)

It was just a typical Wednesday morning, or any morning, for that matter. I sat on the couch, laptop open, planning my grocery shopping trip for later in the afternoon. (It takes hours to plan when you attack the store like the crazy coupon diva you are.) My toddler sat at my right, still aRead More

2012: The year I learned to be content

2012: The year I learned to be content

Has it really been five days since I’ve written? Hmm. It feels strange…that it doesn’t feel strange. You see, I’ve had a bit on my plate the last two weeks. In the course of fourteen days, my youngest daughter first came down with the rotavirus, had two days of relative good health, then got anotherRead More

Guest Post: Mid-Century Mama and Something New

Guest Post: Mid-Century Mama and Something New

The first time I met author Malena Lott (at a Buzz Books retreat), there was something so….familiar about her. Not her appearance, not her name. It was her spirit. She was charming, and poised, and dare I say, a lady. But her social graces were not pretentious, as she was warm, friendly and completely approachable.Read More

The rest is still unwritten.

The rest is still unwritten.

Me, in baggy jeans and cotton jacket, shuffling across the scuffed-up kitchen floor, singing, dancing, feeling more alive than I have in a long time. I scraped dried strawberry yogurt off the Little Tikes picnic table, and grumbled when I got some under my thumb nail (I hate that feeling), but still, I sang. IRead More