May The Fourth Be With Us All


I was born into a family of movie fanatics, with a special love for sci-fi. We are working on our third generation of Star Wars zealots and we are hard core. As a child I lived in Rhode Island. On opening night my father took us to Massachusetts because, at the time, there wasn’t a theater in the state of RI that was worthy of Star Wars.

On this “May The Fourth Be With You,” I am thinking about inner power. Please forgive my geekiness today, but this is relevant! What is the Force except the ability to access the magic that lives within. And don’t we all have it? Maybe we can’t suspend star ships or pull the “these aren’t the droids you’re looking for,” but we have it.

The ability to share creativity is magical. Art that can take your breath away. Music that can melt your insides. I can listen to a song 1,000 times over and on the 1,001st, I am still stunned that someone wrote it and performs it and can make me feel their magic. I am sitting in a library right now. I am surrounded by thousands of books from writers who dreamed or lived these stories, and wrote them and shared them. Pure magic.

Real empathy is magic, too. I have a friend and he is a hospice volunteer. Just because. I am mediocre on empathy at times. I can feel it, but I’m not great at figuring out how to show it. He helps me see how to show it sometimes. It takes a village to be a decent human being.

Friendship, loyalty and love are magical too. There are people in my life, old friends, new friends, and family and I am so grateful for them all. They are my true Force.

So on this Star Wars day, I challenge you to acknowledge your inner force and to celebrate it.  And just once, try to move a pencil with your mind.


Delicious Duplicity



I lead two lives.  I am Batman. Okay that is a stretch.  I am probably closer to Jeckyll and Hyde.  Reliable professional by day.  Passionate, writer of love by night.

By day, I sit up straight at my desk, say the word fuck under my breath only in a hushed whisper, and can always be counted on to meet the tightest deadline. I say please and thank you and neaten items on my desk, more than a little compulsively. I prefer my stapler parallel to my tape dispenser, at a slight angle to the tissue box, which is parallel to my in-box and so on.  I keep cough drops and mint gum and fruit flavored antacids in my desk to share with anyone in need. My beverage rests on a hand made coaster to prevent condensation damage to the surface of my desk.

But by night… well that is a different matter entirely and I’m not sharing.

Yesterday, while I was sitting in Starbucks revising the latest draft of Circling, an old acquaintance came over to say hello with his children. My how you girls have grown I said with a smile, sliding my hand to protect the scene I was editing from young eyes. If he knew my hand rested on a steamy oral interlude, he would have had a good laugh.

I’m not ready to share yet though. I’m enjoying the duplicity too much.