Susie now lived with Bob Ploss in Slocan Park, north of Crescent Valley. I stayed with them in their one room cabin with the outhouse that overlooked a field of flowers. I didn’t know what I was doing there, and I missed Alec and the flowers in the park across the...
Spring, 1972 After a few weeks of this valley paradise, living in the cabin that was accessed by crossing the river swollen with snowmelt, a new friend, Christine, who lived in the more populated part of Crescent Valley, appeared at my door and asked me if my name was...
It was suggested by Robyn Read that one of the things an author could do to prepare for publication was to write a long bio as well as the necessary short one. I started to have some fun with that, and will surely cut this one back. But here’s what I have so...
I’m doing what I’m supposed to do as a writer in these modern times: that tweeting thing and that blogging thing. The blogging thing I pretty much have a handle on. The tweeting thing? I feel like a little kid again, rushing after my older siblings,...
It’s happened. I am a published author. I can “honestly” say I’m a writer without feeling like I’ll be hit with a stack of books, even though EVERYONE says, if you write, then you are a writer. But now, well, the realness of it all has...
