Some mornings my mind lies as still as a pond. Can you see it? A platinum sheet. Tufts of steam shimmering in the air. Beautiful but still. Where are the words? Hidden somewhere beneath that molten mirror. Hidden by the reflection of the high cirrus skies. Down with the fish, darting in the shadows. They … Continue reading My Mind is a Mirror

All writers enjoy times when the words zing from their fingertips, but just like blue skies and sunshine, that energy doesn't always stay. You wonder--- where do the words go when the mood clouds shift? Are writers like bears? Do they need to hibernate --- store up the fat and juice of life? Sit awhile … Continue reading Writer’s Hibernation