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Several years ago, I attended a writing conference in Myrtle Beach, South Carolina. I don’t remember much about anyone I met that day. If you’ve been to a writing conference, you understand that, on some level, they’re Beauty Pageants of Words. One spends insane amounts of time wondering whether her metaphorical butt is dangling from the back of her bathing suit during the critique session, I mean, swimsuit competition. She knows her cleavage doesn’t match the next gal’s. Will she fall down the stairs in her stilettos because she can’t look straight ahead and walk at the same time?
Still, I remember author Hank Phillippi Ryan.Continue Reading

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A lot goes in to planning a three-week trip. Especially when that trip requires Rotary pins and badges and multi-cultural attire. At my last Rotary convention, I made the unfortunate mistake of wearing a halter sundress to the opening ceremonies.

People of many nations were offended.Continue Reading