The world is crazier than most people know. But I know. I was a clinical social worker for forty years. I am a witness. I retired from social work to write about the sad, the mad, and the savage; with whom I have spent most of my life. I have decided to translate these stories into fiction, because, as a co-worker once said, "You couldn't make this sh*t up. No one would believe you."

Wednesday, January 27, 2016

It's Been A While

Well, this time I can really say I'm back. That's because I am RETIRED.

Oh yes. Let me savor that wonderful word. RETIRED. RE-TI-RED. Retired. Re-tired.

Possible synonyms: Broke. Worried? Damn fool? What's for supper? Supper? Are you kidding?

Well, sometimes you just gotta jump. On December 29, 2015, I reached a birthday that shall not be named. On December 31, 2015, I threw in the work-til-you-drop-but-it's-a-paycheck towel. Nowhere near enough money saved. (That's a pretty big club these days). But ... what the hell. As Mehitabel the cat famously said, "there's a dance in the old dame yet."

Where to from here? Writing. What else? I am determined to give my avocation a try before:

  • I die
  • Working kills me
  • Worry kills me
  • I go broke anyhow

Tuesday, April 29, 2014

Update: Takes a Lickin' and Keeps on Tickin'

Life is tough, but I'm tougher. I'm still writing! Crescendo is almost done.

Maybe I live a dull life. I sit at my computer like a lump from dawn 'til dusk, and if I can't sleep, that's where I go. I watch TV in the evening to keep my husband company, but I'd rather be writing.

Perhaps all that stops me is the spread of my ass.

I have reached the age at which it's impossible to starve to death. Thinking about food puts on a pound; looking bug-eyed at an ice cream shop puts on two. And sitting at your desk all day grows

Thursday, January 30, 2014

Maybe It's a Habit ...

I just finished another book. Yes. Another novel. This one is sci-fi, a major romp like Jane of the Jungle, but taking place between Earth and another planet with people who are genetically identical but far, far more civilized. Although they're a warrior culture; but that's just part of the fun.

It's actually part of a trilogy, called The New Earth. The first book (just finished) is Rhapsody, the second, Crescendo, the last Liebestod. Yes, I love music. And ...  the human lifespan is kind of a work of music. I've just started on Crescendo, and it flows. It's easy stuff to write, because I've been walking around with this fantasy in my head for oh, probably ten years or so.

Writers are dreamers. When life sucks, as it often does, there's always fantasy. Sometimes I worry that I spend too much time in fantasy and not enough in the real world; so I come back to the real world and presto! back to fantasy I go. I'm not worried that I'll go nuts. I couldn't go nuts if

Sunday, January 12, 2014

Back, Yet Again ...

This time I was away, like, forever.

Did I give up? For a while, I think.

But - that's me - takes a lickin' and keeps on tickin' ...

I moved "home", which was back to Santa Fe. I have decided Santa Fe is my home. For most of my life it was New England, but I haven't been home in 20 years, and I had a decision to make. So I decided: Santa Fe. It's like Boston only weirder and friendlier.

I moved back from Albuquerque, which is so vanilla few people ever make up their minds about anything. Albuquerque is kind of like a giant strip mall, with ranch houses in between stores. I'm not saying it's a bad town - far from it. Albuquerque is a great town; it's just not as artsy and pretentious as Santa Fe.

And, I think I need artsy and pretentious. Yes. Truth time. I am an artsy pretentious person. Well, maybe not pretentious, but I need to be surrounded by some measure of sophistication and creativity. I need to say I'm from someplace cool. And who wants to be from Albuquerque?

(To the great city of Albuquerque: I'm sorry. I tried!)

Now I'm in debt up to my eyeballs and beyond, but happily

Tuesday, June 4, 2013

But I'm Also a Social Worker....

In my quest to return to writing for a living, I neglect the fact that I have spent most of my adult life in the belly of the monster.

I wrote for a Boston newspaper to put myself through grad school; then when I got my degree, I actually left writing and went into social work. I will not try to ascertain why. There are some things God keeps secret from us, and it's probably for the best.

What do social workers do? They climb into a front row seat at the Theater of Doom, and reach out to help in any way they can. They talk to kids in schools, trying to get them to give a sh*t about graduating so they can be free of their crazy drug dealing families, then understand they don't want to be free of them. Family is family. It is powerful.

Sometimes I saw some of those kids later, in jail. I ran