Josie Mirabal sacrificed two and a half vacation days to meet her online lover. For the past month and a half, a man calling himself Mike Halverson had sent daily messages via her personal blog, Friends of Reflective Surfaces, sharing his opinion about all things shiny and, eventually, his interest in her. Josie’s collection of mirrored crystal figurines (she’d posted several photos of her favorite clowns and dancers) had initially attracted Mike’s attention. Although she did

Two days of cloudy skies and sporadic rain, then the sun returns, sends a beam across the back yard, fires the geraniums squatting next to the blistered Charleston bench. Still cool, low 60’s at 7 a.m. The early morning dip a predictable lull before the dog day begins. In the garden, asters stretch knee-high, the dogwood sets spring blooms, petunias and begonias burn calendar-bright. It is August 6, the day the United States dropped the atomic bomb on Hiroshima, weldin

Oh, the dog days are coming! In this month whose name reminds us of Augustus Caesar and his eventual demise, I am plowing ahead with writing and submissions and trying to defend my desire to make my words count. But sometimes, in the middle of filling out yet another specific request, it can feel like agents and editors are killing the creator in me with the multiple asks. After finishing the manuscript for CARRY ME HOME, I wrote a 150-word synopsis, a one-page synopsis, and

We pay to have the scruffy yews replaced by red elf coreopsis and balloon flowers, the dwarf variety, each cutting selected for its sweet bee perfume, the whole fenced in by fuschia-bright phlox. It’s a good plan, well-researched and weed-tended, until the morning I spy a wild invader’s stalk, rising like a Trojan horse with spine so tall it quickly outpaces the lame domesticated roots, races upward, one foot, two, ten, each leap a succulent invitation to butter

"The lunatic, the lover, and the poet Are of imagination all compact." William Shakespeare, A Midsummer Night's Dream When Theseus says these words to Hippolyta in the play at his wedding, he is tolerating her reaction to the strange romantic doings of the human and ethereal spirits in the woods. I like to think the lines apply to all of us who find July a time to moon gaze at night, read entertaining novels in the afternoon

June ushers in summer with an abundance of memories: family weddings, high school and college graduations, anticipated or completed excursions to favorite destinations, or maybe travel to new ones. This year, for me in 2026, this month is also about making changes – a new look for my website and a new direction for my writing. First, the website. Since January, I’ve been working to update the existing site to better represent my brand. From the Write Side has been my baby for

The farmlands are mostly gone now, paved over, plowed under, transformed by tar and girded by concrete and order. But there, on the curve of the cul-de-sac, the wild creeps in. Mansions consume large lots, sport cultured lawns awash with weed killer that seeps and runs and strangles the native flowers, but deep within the curated grass, the wild creeps in. The wooded groves, the prairie fields struggle to retain purchase amid the plats with throwback names: Settler’s Walk

As winter settles in, I reflect on the meaning of giving, the beauty of simplicity, and the gifts that matter most, shared moments, meaningful words, and the people we cherish.