Mountain vistas layered with blues and greens. Check. Crystal clear water rippling with calming waves. Check. Bookstores. Not so much.
Random weather ruled my June and heavily influenced my activities...including reading...
It's just a square building made of white planks with a gray pyramid roof settled on top, like a hat that's a little bit too big. The building could have been the inspiration for the schoolhouse in the Little House on the Prairie books...
It's that time of year again. Sprinklers dot the sidewalks with water. Fresh cut grass sticks to flip flops. And the air thickens with anticipation (oh and humidity).
I am a woman. I was once young. (Don't snicker.) And even then I loved to write. But I didn't necessarily want to be a writer, well, not at first.
Breakups are not always rational. This is what watching 9 seasons of Seinfeld taught me. And I apply this learning beyond personal relationships. I apply it to books as well.
It’s been 20 hours since I dragged my overstuffed carry-on suitcase through the doorway of my house. After three taxis, a three-hour train ride, countless hours at the airport, a six hour flight and one narrowly averted snow storm, I’m finally here, at my hotel in Spain. Exhausted and excited.
My house groaned like an old angry ghost, one with a fondness for my closet or at least the attic area above it. Unable to sleep, I pulled my covers up to my chin and tried to ignore it.