Welcome to my author website. I am posting here some of my previously published writing, and also links to more recent and current published essays and short stories. And, if that’s not enough, you can also follow me on Twitter!    

One day I looked around my office and there were stacks of paper copies of essays I had published. Yes, stacks. Besides constituting a fire hazard, it was also beginning to look like the lair of a paper hoarder. Since it seems unlikely that my “papers, notebooks, and ephemera” will be acquired for a vast sum of money any time soon by a prestigious university, like Jonathan Lethem’s recently were, I decided to take matters into my own hands.  I am creating, here on my website, my own archive! I will post as many essays as I have published that I can find, and that I still deem worthy of sharing, going as far back as the 1980s, when I published my very first one in The Los Angeles Times. Read on!




Snow Days

Originally published on newsworks.org, the online news source for WHYY (NPR) in Philadelphia

The Day Before – Hello. This is The School calling to inform you that, due to the upcoming winter storm warning, school will not be in session tomorrow. Please do not drop your child off at school “accidentally,” on your way to your Pilates class, and then claim later that you never got this call. You know who you are. And so do we. This message will now repeat.

Day One a.m. – What a rare treat to have the little darlings home for a day. I will use this unexpected gift of time and make it a special day. Outside the weather may be frightful, but our day will be quite delightful. Let’s see… First, I’ll make everyone heart-shaped pancakes, then we’ll snuggle up and watch a family movie. Or two movies – after all, we have all day! We can bake cookies later, then maybe a few games of Monopoly. Just some good old-fashioned family time.

Day One p.m. – The school called again with one of those damn robo-calls. Blah, blah, blah winter storm. I mean, when I was a kid we didn’t have “snow days.” And that was before global warming, when we used to have real snow. Hubbie was telling the kids the story of how he used to deliver newspapers on his bike in snowstorms worse than this. Then he got all pissy because they walked out of the room during the part where he had to dig in the snow when he dropped his dime tip from Mrs. Gianetti. Continue reading

In Our Writing We Trust

This new essay was just published in the literary journal The Tishman Review. Read here or visit http://www.thetishmanreview.com/

Whenever I teach a class about writing and publishing, there is always a student who asks, “Aren’t you worried your ideas will be stolen?”  This is probably because of my teaching philosophy, which is to share everything in the world I know that might help them.

I always answer, “No.  I’m not afraid my ideas will be stolen.”  In the first place, the very essence of an idea is that it can’t be stolen.  An idea is an intangible thing.  Add to it the writer’s voice; toss in her version of plot, character, and setting; and you’ve got something that can’t be exactly duplicated.

Maybe there are only two or three or twelve basic plots, as some writing teachers like to point out.  And maybe if that monkey sits at the computer long enough it will eventually type out Romeo and Juliet.  I tell my own students that most good stories are basically about three things: love, loss, or longing (or any two or all of these in combination).  On the surface that might not seem to allow for much creativity, but the beauty of it is that there are as many stories about love, loss, and longing as there are human beings. Continue reading

The Cheering Section

I was trying to think of a way to announce that I just signed with a literary agent this past week, who will represent me and my brand new memoir, The Queen of Everything, without sounding like I was bragging. That’s the weird thing about social media (for me, anyway): whenever I “announce” or “share” publication news, or news like this – that I have signed with an agent – I feel like I am “tooting my own horn.” The fact that I am using so many quotation marks, by the way, shows my ambivalence about this.

Most writers I know are pretty solitary creatures. We can socialize at cocktail parties just fine, and I think I even make a pretty good dinner partner; but I can also go for huge stretches of time alone with my laptop and books and notes. I normally take time every morning for walks with friends, and I spend dinner and evenings with my husband. But during the time when most people are either at work or golfing or playing tennis, I am happily alone. For hours.

At the end of all of those long hours, sometimes a book is born. Along the way, short stories and essays and poems also get birthed. The shorter pieces get sent out and published, submitted by the author herself, and today you can even publish a book on your own. But most professional writers I know dream the dream of having a book taken on by a literary agent, who will then sell the manuscript to a publisher. I myself have been dreaming this dream for many years. I myself have had several false starts on books that went nowhere.

But now I do have a book. And an agent. I have not met Liz Parker of Inkwell Management in person yet, but she sounds really nice on the phone, and she has a good sense of humor. She must, if she loves my book, because my book is pretty funny in parts. In other parts it’s pretty sad though, but that’s pretty much what a memoir is – like life, it has funny and sad parts.

When people ask me what my book is about, I say it’s about being a sister. The funny and the sad parts. Liz said, about my sister with a brain injury – who is the fulcrum of my story about being a sister – that my sister is a “rock star.” I never thought of my sister that way, but I am so happy that she just naturally came across like that in my book, and that Liz saw that she is a rock star. That made me want Liz to represent my book.

Because in life we all need a cheering section, whether we are writers or not. Or if not an entire cheering section, at least one or two or three people who wish you well and are cheering you on to do better.