The first, first. Last week delivered to my door, in five boxes, were my copies of my first, first printing hardcover. It’s not wholly mine. It’s an anthology of work by five authors. But my name is on the cover. My story is inside. I’ve had two other books in hardcover. One was a foreign edition. The other was a subsidiary sale to Thorndike Press who prints mostly for libraries. Both were cool. This is cooler. The book, More Than Words Volume 5 is due out in April. Heather Graham, a woman I’ve known and admired for years, is the headliner. I’m honored to be in the volume with her. Even more meaningful than being out in Hardcover, or being published with Heather, is having been a part of the work itself. More Than Words is a project that Harlequin started several years ago. Throughout the year, the company solicits applications from private women’s charities. Five are chosen. Each of the five authors, who are hand chosen by the publisher, are given one of the charities. I was given Sandra Ramos, founder of Strengthen our Sisters. Sandra founded the very first battered women’s shelter in the United States. She’s an…

Today is pie day. For my entire adult life the holiday season has started with pie day. It’s the day before Thanksgiving. And I am the pie maker. Doesn’t matter where Thanksgiving is happening, I make the pies. Conveniently, it’s worked out that where ever Thanksgiving was happening, pies have been needed. I make four of them. Whether dinner is for five or fifteen. Four pies. Two pumpkin. A pecan. And an apple. I can still remember the first time I made an apple pie. I was a young adult. In an apartment. I don’t know why I had to make an apple pie. I’m fairly confident that I had a reason. Just not one worth remembering apparently. But I do remember the process. Clearly. I was an adult. A woman. I could follow directions. I could make a pie. That’s what women did. I had a great cookbook that I got from I have no idea where. I probably knew that back then, too. Today I can tell you that I still have that cookbook. So, whoever gave it to me (probably my mother) thank you. On that holiday more than twenty years ago, I opened the book to…

My favorite colors are…non-colors. And that’s so me. So TTQ. I’ve never been a joiner. Hard to believe from someone who was president of a large writer’s organization, huh? You’d think a person had to be part of the ‘in’ crowd to get to such an elevated position. Except that the position wasn’t elevated, and when I entered the board room for my first term of service, I didn’t know anyone well. And only two people by name. I hadn’t run for office, and had no idea how the current president had ever heard of me or why she thought I was the one she wanted to appoint to a vacated position. After eight years of service, I came away knowing a lot more names, but only a handful of people personally. It’s not that I like being alone. Or that I don’t want friends. I’ve just always been alone. I grew up with my nose in a book. Literally. By the time I was fourteen, I was reading a Harlequin romance a day. Throughout high school I attended class, did my homework, worked in the nursery at a bowling alley and then at Wendy’s, and I lived for those…