Musings (Click to Visit Substack for More)

This Older Woman Talking to the Younger Women in the Room (what I should have said) Sunday night, I had the pleasure of gathering with fifteen brilliant women (writer-friends) to

Yesterday, while playing bumper carts in Wegmans, fearful I wouldn’t find shredded carrots (oh, the agony of having to shred with my own hands!) I fumed at carts left unattended,

When I was newly married—at 19, no less— my then-husband and I moved to a farm between Binghamton and Ithaca, New York. His job was being a farmhand. Mine was reading

  Years ago, “women’s pages” were in the newspaper, and The Boston Globe featured “Confidential Chat,” I was home with young children (usually many more than my own—we got through

“KENT, Ohio, May 4—Four students at Kent State University, two of them women, were shot to death this afternoon by a volley of National Guard gunfire. At least 8 other

  Do we have just enough Miep Gies in us? “I am not a hero. I stand at the end of the long, long line of good Dutch people who

  Fiction is for escape; fiction teaches empathy. In every book, I work to put the story first (“the gotta know”—as per Stephen King’s instructions) while imbuing it with the

  How could I capture my new novel in one cover? Not that it was my job—but when the warm, welcoming cover designer at my publisher asked me for ideas,

Ah, the picture above—was it taken mid-eye-roll at my junior high school graduation? I never met a book by Ruth Reichl I haven’t loved, and my adoration continued with  Not

Being invisible is pretty hard for a kid. Crummy childhoods take many forms; usually, it’s an amalgam of yuck. Smacks and screams thankfully have a time limit, but neglect is

Hint: It’s Books Stories of survival fill me with shivery delight. I rarely meet a story of man/woman vs. elements that won’t keep me up until all hours. Heartpounding adventure

First, they put Vaseline on the camera lens. Next up was rose-colored lighting, shooting through pantyhose and soft focus. And then, just in time for my first author photo in

I started Jesse, A Mother’s Story twice. The stark beauty of this memoir hit me the moment I began. Marianne Leone’s narrative, written with an unrelenting immediacy, yanked me into her

I love books; I love them more than bagels, jewelry, or cashmere sweaters, and that’s a lot. Reading kept me from teen pregnancy, heroin, and robbing convenience stores with a

Stories abound of Jewish people who grow up warm and secure in their faith. Those for whom the eight days of Hanukah didn’t compete with Christmas: Jewish nurses, firefighters, and