This post is a response to a writing prompt for my eighth grade class: Write an autobiographical narrative. The theme is Christmas. Today I’ll share a bad Christmas story. Tomorrow, it will be a pleasant one. So here we go…
It is the fourth quarter and the eighth-grade students are at that saucy stage. Those critical thinking synapses have connected, they get and use sarcasm. Basically the sweet kids that thought I was the moon and the stars are probably planning ways to hide me in the closet […]
You know that person. The one that makes you repeat yourself. Several times. Then they get what you were trying to say. I’ll raise my hand and admit that’s me. Here is where I’ll take you back in time. Not too far back. We’re going to the autumn […]
As if it would make me feel better to know in pirate libraries my book was beside USA Today bestsellers.
What Are You Doing This Summer? Every time someone asks me what I am doing over the summer I have the same reaction. I don’t know. The obvious answer is: write. I am going to write. However, that entails planning adventures for my characters or living out said […]
And, so you have yet another reason why I love our small town in the far, far north. Our elixir for fear is a cup of coffee sweetened with some healthy banter.
7. The time Derek, the first born of the four, sat us down to tell us he was joining the marines. It was the first of many sit downs initiated by our children. For the record-that wasn’t in any of the parenting books I read.