We’re All Immigrants: The Recipe Edition!

  My dear friend, Robin Black, made the wise suggestion of having an election night dinner that was a tribute to immigrants. There are few few among us in America (Native Americans) who didn’t come from ‘somewhere’ –so, in effect: Todos somos inmigrantes, Wǒmen dōu shì yímín, nahn jamieaan almuhajirin & waxaanu wada nahay waddanka u soo guurey Among … Read more

Voting, We’re All Children of Immigrants

  Not to get all Freudian, but last night I woke gasping for breath (repeatedly), paralyzed with fear, riding waves of Donald Trump smothering me. The nightmare stapled me to the bed. (And, I know if he read this, he’d say I wasn’t even close to being good-looking enough for him to nightmare me.) Women … Read more

Bonus Track: An Epilogue for THE COMFORT OF LIES: “Savannah at 14”

Note: Readers have written, asking what happens to Savannah, who was six years old when “The Comfort of Lies” ends. This epilogue was in the original manuscript—I thought some readers would enjoy seeing how my lovely girl (I adored her every minute of writing the book) made out. Someone talked me out of including it … Read more

Behind One Writer’s Group Curtain (at The Boston Book Festival)

                                    How does a writer, working alone, manage isolation? The initial spark of a novel and putting words to paper is a solitary thing—but even introverted authors need a band of brothers or sisters. Come hear the secrets of … Read more

Not Our Shame

With every listen, the Trump sex assault tape sounds worse. Every syllable engenders feelings of being small and wretched and humiliated. I search for the genesis of these emotions, for the source of my desire to curl up into an invisible ball. And the truths wash in: The time my neighbor’s boyfriend covered my six-year-old … Read more