My thoughts go out to everyone in the northeast as we brace for the worst storm of the season.
Don’t you just love it when you get a really good review? It totally makes my day. It makes the so so ones just fade into the background.
As far back as I can remember, I wanted to play guitar, sing, write songs, and have a career performing music. Unfortunately, the career part of that plan never came to fruition, but I have learned that when one dream doesn’t come true, it’s never too late to go after a new one.
My fiction writing aspirations began as a dream. Literally. I awoke after having a very vivid dream one morning in November of 2007. I immediately grabbed a notebook and wrote down everything I could remember about the story that had played out in my sleep. I was compelled to do something with it. I followed that instinct and was inspired to write a book.
I had written about fifty pages when the computer crashed. It was the best thing that could have happened. I could have continued working on it long hand, but instead…
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Oh, No! Not the Pradas!
In the face of the racist, puritanical, self-serving, money-mad, avaricious U.S. citizens and politicians whose votes and campaigns against fairness and reason won out in the recent midterm elections, we need to keep laughing, working to retain what we have gained, and believing in miracles.
This fall, at Women’s Week in Provincetown, Massachusetts, I got my little miracle.
Of course, Tex is taking all the credit. First off, Tex was Best Butch at our wedding four years ago. She had a bad cold at the time and left before the wedding cake was served. We have been hearing about her tragic disappointment ever since. This year, the bakery was open thru Women’s Week. My sweetheart ordered a smaller version of our cake. In the swirl of lesbian events, socializing—and searching for my lost glasses—I was trying to connect with Tex to get her…
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