Feral Mom, Feral Writer

I packed the chili, cornbread, and warm chocolate chip cookies my son had baked for great grandpa into the car. I loaded the three kids and ...

When I was seventeen, a postcard came in the mail (must have been early fall) of El Beso , by Rodin. I fell in love with the sound of the sc...

I’m still learning how to use rejection to drive my work to its best incarnation. I came across a few remarks that made laugh and stop takin...

I discovered "Ritual at Dusk" is also up--I'm grateful to The Daily Palette (out of Iowa) for posting it this month ( http://d...

Pleased to announce my poem "The Painter's Wife" is up at Linebreak ( http://www.linebreak.org/ ). Their format features a tex...

All day I listen to a steady stream of pick-ups spurt their way up our steep gravel drive past my cabin on their way to view the foreclosure...

In a Slate post What do “bad” moms and slacker dads have to tell us , Ann Hulbert questions the long-term effects (on children) of mommy blo...