Watching Rosebuds Unfurl

I know, I know. I promised this would be a monthly blog, but what’s a ridiculously overcommitted novelist, essayist, Jungian analyst, teacher, conference presenter, litter box emptier, yogini, film fanatic, and neighborhood walker to do? If you’re like me, almost...

Marked by Fire

Fans of The History of My Body often ask, “Where did the title come from?” Typically, I respond with an abbreviated version of the dream that led to the novel’s name. Now you can read the whole story in a chapter of what promises to be an...

Beginners!

When I was a green girl of fifteen, I was first introduced to Walt Whitman’s Leaves of Grass. I’ve written elsewhere of the numinosity of that introduction, but I didn’t mention that one of the poems that most intrigued me was this one: BEGINNERS How they are provided...