Journey

Pilgrimage

“Walk until you reach the color red.” Last week, nine women writers were offered this quest during the A Room …

Hello, Stranger

Two and a half weeks is long enough for everything to go strange. When I returned home last night, our …

Otherhood

Warning: this week’s blog post, a comedic romp into the realm of the sadly under-utilized gluteous maximus muscle, is now …

A Room of One’s Own

While it’s been many years since I’ve shared the cost of rent with someone, this isn’t to say that I …

Little Things

Never write to settle scores. This, of course, is a great temptation for writers abused in some way. Rather than …

Embodiment: You Are Here

You know those large, illuminated maps in shopping malls, the ones bearing a big red dot with the words, YOU …

Rules

Must the Gun Always Fire? (And Other Rules of Writing) was the theme of Friday night’s Hugo House Literary Series …

Happy Frickin’ New Year

‘Tis a new year —a time of hope, an era of beginnings, fresh starts, healthy diets, exercise regimes, flapping doves, …

Wonder

This past Friday, the Jack Straw Writers were each paired with a musician who used our writing as inspiration for …

Grasshopper

The Walla Walla public library is quaint and humble and more roomy than one might expect a small town library …

Pacific Coast Highway

Whipping south on Highway 1, I can barely keep the Mustang below 80. Still, it feels like slow motion. I …

Forgetting

I lean over to release my heavy anchor into the sea, knowing that its warm currents will stay with me, erasing and refining the deep grooves of my memory with polishings of water and sand. As the sharpness fades, a smooth surface will emerge: a tabula rasa upon which I can build a real home for the first time in my life.

Cannery Row

In my teens and twenties, flowery works of Middle English and Romantic Literature were my mainstays. Hemingway’s “The Sun Also …