May 16, 2018


I’ve written stories for as long as I can remember — scratched out before I knew D’Nealian cursive, rambling in my mind as I walked to and from elementary school, painstakingly pecked on my manual typewriter — too many characters, plots and settings to recall or remember, but each a coveted facet of my imagination.

With another manuscript behind me, I wait as it attempts to find flight, or bluntly, a publisher. It’s a nail-biting time and my hands like to keep busy. So rather than destroy my manicure, I begin anew, yet again.

While the next novel forms in mind alone, I’ve decided to walk away from the keyboard and into the kitchen because along with writing, I’ve always loved to cook. The joy of creating something from scratch and with love grounds my over-active imagination.

When my daughter was diagnosed with type1 diabetes two years ago, the freedom I once felt toiling amid pots and pans disappeared. Cooking became a chore and a frustrating task. Slowly, through daily trips to Chinos farm stand and weekly jaunts to the farmers market, I’ve reconnected with food. Once again finding solitude in nourishing my family, as well as, my soul. It is from this place that I found my next project.

For Good Measure will debut this coming fall. Until then, I’ll be in the kitchen.