postcard, multnomah falls

On September 13, I head to Portland, Oregon. Lewis and Clark country. Six events. Three days. Plus a day to mimic their footsteps. Explore a new-to-me site or two.

Travel looks glamorous.

It isn’t.

Yes, I love meeting current fans and making new ones. Yes, I adore adding destinations and making memories. Yes, I’m grateful anyone shows up for anything I do.

But I miss MTM.

A bone-crunching, heart-stopping ache.

Yes, I plow through everything and make it look fetching, but I do it while craving my soul.

I’m lucky he supports my crazy dream. Even when I wonder how anyone makes money writing books. Especially when I get another snarky review and cry for an hour or several. He keeps saying I believe when I walk through the valley of author atheism, a place bereft of belief in myself.

So many of you bolster me in ways you don’t know. You cheer and critique; you check on me and say exactly what I needed more often than you realize. In my loneliest moments on the road, when I struggle to keep up with myself and my stuff while being ‘on’ 24/7, you reach out and send me thoughtful messages, funny pictures and tender texts.

It’s my turn to give back to you.

If you’d like to receive a Lewis and Clark postcard from my trip to Portland, please leave a comment today. I’ll reach out to you by e-mail if I don’t have your mailing address. I’d love to spend part of a day at a picnic table, staring at the river Lewis loved to hate, breathing a few expedition molecules and penning notes to you.


How do I introduce a man most of you already know? On my seminal day, the anniversary of my appearance in this world, I don’t know how to write about my greatest gift.


He helps me SEE the beauty in minutiae.


When I want to quit, he tells me I can.


When I stop believing, he constructs a bridge, guides me across and pushes me onward.


When I don’t care, he counteracts my apathy with passion and with faith. With a kick in the pants and with love.


He feeds my body. He nurtures my imagination. He consumes my soul….and he whups my butt in any game.


Without MTM, I would be Nowhere.


h on the blog for website 2

The Huffington Post calls it “one literary ride you don’t want to miss!” What are you waiting for? Read Not Without My Father: One Woman’s 444-Mile Walk of the Natchez Trace. Be inspired to Make a Memory of your very own.

Click to read a sample of Not Without My Father

Buy now at these outlets:

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he wants to ride it

He climbed on it. Again. He wants to ride it All. The. Time.

While I despair. Steroid withdrawal has transformed me into a chronically fatigued version of Cruella Deville. Unspeakable thoughts stream from both mouth and fingers. If I’m not pimping books, I’m most likely ANGRY and in bed.

He wants to ride it anyway.

Bitchy thoughts diatribes don’t deter him. No shower for three days, because it’s too much freaking effort? He doesn’t care. When I draw the curtains, light candles and cocoon, he takes it as an invitation. To ride. And RIDE. AND RIDE.

I try to sleep through it. Because really, what else can I do? He’s oblivious. Determined even. He pumps and thrashes, brakes and grinds whatever my precarious state of mind.

Will MTM ever tire of his bike, now that he’s cleared to ride? I may never stop worrying, but I sure do hope I can find myself in the brain-fogged haze and exhaustion prednisone left in its wake.


It’s criminal to complain about how I feel, given that I’m blessed with overall good health. I wasn’t prepared for the steroid aftermath. I’ve always been hormonally challenged. I should’ve known taking a drug that screws with my hormones would Cruella me. 


I’m not accustomed to almost constant super-charged PMS……….Which is what this feels like……….Don’t worry about me………..But please send your kind thoughts and well wishes to poor MTM. No wonder he wants to ride it all the time.

And speaking of TIRED………

city lit books

I’m in Chicago from 10 – 13 March. Three appearances only. Penny O’Neill gets my remaining time. She’s putting me up for the duration. I’m energized at the thought of giving her a hug.

If you’re in the Chicago area,
please stop by City Lit Books.
March 12. 6:30 – 7:30pm.

I’d love to meet you, to hear your stories and to inspire you to Make a Memory!