E leven years ago, my husband Bill and I relocated our lives to the brink of a force of Nature. Our new home grew from a boathouse that had been planted on this spot in the early 20th century. It is ten yards—Count 'em: Ten!— from the shore of Lake Erie. Erie is beautiful, compelling, [...]

W ater, water everywhere, nor any drop for the garden. Or the soul. The lawn has turned a dejected shade of yellow. The hydrangeas have been -- I think I'd have to call it sulking. (If they had lower lips, their lower lips would be stuck out a mile. "Oh, buck up," I'd admonish them "I'm [...]

I f you knew me well, you'd know that, in much the same way that the kid from "The Sixth Sense" saw dead people, I see (and write about) crimes. Mystery. Oh, yeah, and dead people. But not actually dead. And not actually people. More like potential, imaginary, fictional dead people. Like, if I were to [...]

S o Anne Lamott, among others, is an enthusiast of the Crappy First Draft. She says she writes only those. That all her first drafts are crappy or they are nothing at all. I myself secretly doubt this because I believe she's practically perfect in every way and merely trying to make the rest of [...]