The miserable winter weather we’re having here in Ohio has reminded me of the snowy night in 1965, when my parents and I had to make the five-hour drive from our suburban Chicago home to the downstate hospital where my grandmother was dying. We’d left our farm and our extended family behind in order for…

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So a time comes, eventually, when the writing isn’t going well. It happens to all of us. We stare at the computer screen, or the page, and we don’t have a clue. It’s like words have become bricks we try to lift with our tongues, or maybe language, tired of our ineptitude, has packed up…

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I had the good fortune last week of winning a literary prize for a short story that came from a friend’s Facebook status (thanks A.D!), which goes to show you that you never know where you might find your material. After all, writers are lurkers, right? We have our ears and eyes open. We encounter…

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I didn’t start out as a prose writer. I started out writing angst-filled poems when I was a teenager. Then in college I took a modern drama class, and the next thing I knew I was writing plays. I did all that before I decided I was a storyteller and that fiction was my genre.…

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