I was making soup one morning when Alex came screaming into the house, in the nerve-shattering way that only Alex can do, “Tiny’s dead! Tiny’s dead!”

Tiny was the barn cat (kitten, actually) that my kids had found a few weeks earlier. It was way too young to be left alone, so they’d been feeding it and falling madly in love with it. And I’d been reminding them, daily, that we were not letting another cat into the house.

So there was Alex, standing in the middle of the kitchen, holding Tiny. He was dangling over her hand like overcooked spaghetti Continue reading →

It was January 1, 2013. But first, a little background:

Marsha Skrypuch is an author. She’s published 16 novels, and has received 47 awards and nominations for her work. She’s also co-owner of an author’s booking service, and runs an online critique group for writers. Oh, and she’s one of the nicest people I’ve ever met.

I have no idea how she does it all. I’m in awe. I’m also a bit irritated, because I sit here writing for eight hours a day every day (including most weekends), and I’m nowhere near that successful. Continue reading →