Hi friends and allies! One of my Twitter friends is the inspiration behind this month’s topic: Hometown Trauma. To save you from a boring definition, this gorgeous first paragraph from The Wild Truth, a memoir written by Carine McCandless, will explain what it is like to suffer from Hometown Trauma: …

Who inspires you? What is it about them that lights a spark? Why? Sometimes we’re inspired to change a complacent pattern. Repetitive routines dull our senses. Sometimes, we’re not living up to our potential, but the tigers in the jungle of our mind hold us back: fear, insecurity, self-doubt, shame…

After another death of a black human, there is nothing I can say to express my emotions in a way that is meaningful enough. As a white woman, I have the privilege of education, health care, financial security, and a non-prejudiced gaze from people in positions of power. I have…

We are in the midst of adaptation. Depending on our location and level of risk to coronavirus, change has disrupted our lives in various degrees and durations of intensity. Urban areas are impacted much more heavily, terrifyingly so, by the virus’ ability to accelerate rapidly. But Montanans have been under…

One of my favorite benefits of writing is the tribe of strong and smart women who surround me. Some I know in person, but I have also met many amazing women online through the shared experience of trauma and the familiar pain of the breakdown endured before breaking through. We…

My husband and I just had a conversation about education. Coincidentally, I just spent the past three days driving my daughter back to Spokane, WA where she attends Gonzaga University. …

OK, I know I don’t divulge too much about my writing project(s). The reason is: The status changes every day, every minute, every time a new idea seems like a good idea. (Seemingly too often, the good ideas aren’t as amazing as I imagined they were at 3:00 a.m.) The…

Next to me is a photo album open to a page with a large black and white photo of four women at the beach at Catalina Island outside of Los Angeles. The ‘swimsuits’ are long black dresses. The date of the photograph is documented as the late 1890’s. My husband…

Yesterday, I had the first fraught meeting with a new editor over the first 30 pages of my memoir. Through our respective computer screens, we came to know each other via the discussion of what wasn’t working for my story. …