JINGLES THAT JANGLE   Percy (One) Our new dog, named for the beloved poet, ate a book which unfortunately we had Left unguarded. Fortunately, it was the Bhagavad Gita, of which many copies are available. Every day now, as Percy grows into the beauty of life, we touch his wild curly h

In my mid-forties, one of my duties as the head of a local teachers union was to attend a national convention in Florida.   My mother, in her sixties at the time, and, always eager to travel, suggested we take this opportunity to make a cross-country motor trip together. Though diff

Sometimes, in the late afternoons, a woman comes down from the second floor of the retirement center to sit in our small café. She always orders a glass of white wine.  With the chilled liquid in front of her,  she gazes into the tall trees that sway outside the picture windows. 

“The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock,” written by a 22 year-old T. S. Eliot, turns a hundred this year. A brilliant poem, according to those who keep the cannon, though many despaired it was written by a man deemed a fascists, whose title character was named after a furniture

As a blog writer with a few books behind me, I get numerous questions about how to find an agent or a publisher or how to promote books. As to the latter, I haven’t a clue. Why some writers get attention and others don’t is a mystery to me. But I do know queries about finding a pu