A Tribe Called Facebook

The Woodstock Nation was about nothing if not social transformation and community. (Well, it was also about sex, drugs, rock ‘n’ roll, and mud – lots and lots of mud – but that’s for another day.) Which may be why, after an initial reluctance to fully embrace...

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...

Hallelujah!

I’ve had some wonderful opportunities lately to spread the word about The History of My Body, appearing on Connie Martinson Talks Books and being interviewed the past few days on radio talk shows, among them WKNY-AM with Warren Lawrence, WXBR-AM with Ron Van...

Ring the Sleigh Bells That Still Can Ring

Today I’m thrilled to participate in the first annual Sleigh Bells and Ink Wells Blog Hop organized by authors Smoky Trudeau Zeidel and Patricia Damery. If you scroll to the bottom of this post, you’ll find directions to the blogs of eleven fascinating writers I know...