‘Tis The Season To Be Bookish #3

These are some of the books I read and loved this year. The third post. You can pursue the other selections here and here. THE OLD WAYS by Robert Macfarlane.  My dear friend, Nathan Turoff, turned me on to Macfarlane. Thank you, Nathan! I could devote an entire blog to Macfarlane’s work. I am haunted…

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‘Tis The Season To Be Bookish #2

Continuing my annual round-up of some of the books I’ve loved this year. I present them in the order I read them. You can read about the first five by clicking here.  Without further ado: MOCKINGBIRD by Walter Tevis. A sci-fi masterpiece: “A moral tale that has elements of Aldous Huxley’s Brave New World, Superman, and Star Wars”…

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‘Tis the Season to be Bookish #1

Of course, all seasons are bookish, don’t you think? It’s been a great reading year for me. I’ve read 127 books so far (I expect to finish a couple more before the year is out). For the next little while I want to share with you the books I enjoyed most. I’ll share five at…

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Do You Keep Writing? Three Lessons

Every day I hear from writers who tell me how impossible it is to keep going, how they are broken by this ‘business’ and they see no reason to continue. Often this means they see no reason to continue living, since being a writer/creator/artist is so deeply embedded in the soul as the archetype by…

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Even so?

My new book, which I anticipate will be published in the spring of 2021, deals with the challenge of loving difficult people. It’s called Even So, which comes from this final poem by Raymond Carver: And did you get what you wanted from this life, even so? I did. And what did you want? To…

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When The Veils Are Thin

According to the calendar, tomorrow is Samhain/Halloween, but for me, this is the day. Why? Because I woke up with my head filled with the flames of my ancestors, some of whom I know, and a few I don’t. (Calendars are odd. So man-made, regardless of the energies that manifest. ) There are different names…

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Never More Helpless

The signs had been there for months and months. All those conversations we had about how terrible her life was, how persecuted she was, how much she regretted this and that, how injustice was burning her alive, how it was all painful and hopeless. In short, depression was a heavy, cold, wet, woolen blanket over…

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Quiet Grace

This wet and green May morning I’m sitting in a log cabin next to the Bushkill Creek, drinking coffee, dog by my side, My Best Beloved in the chair by the big window, which is filled with the sweet green leaves of spring. It’s raining today, so green is greener, tree trunks are browner, the…

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The First Cathedral, With Angels

It’s Easter Sunday morning and I am sitting behind my house, near the liminal space marking the border between the garden and the Wild Wood. I am watching for the foxes. The vixen and her three kits. For several years a family of foxes has taken up residence in the complicated, many-entranced den where once…

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Reading in Dark Times

It can be difficult for me to remain cheery in the midst of world events. It’s hard to remember that all things are born, live and die into transformation, only to repeat the cycle over and over again. This is true, I believe of all sentient things, as well as eras, cultures, nations, planets… The…

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