As I mention in my upcoming memoir, for a time I lived in a pub in an English village.  Quaint and cozy, it was of note because of a  monk’s face, carved with a wink, that peered into the serving room.  Behind it was a passageway, long since blocked, that in early day

I wrote yesterday of my respect for clear writing, and how often I drowned in the words of clever writers.  No sooner had I put down one edition of Harper’s and took up another than I discovered myself gasping for air a second time.  The new essay was written by Will Self, an auth

The woman was screaming into the phone.  “How about I tell you what’s under…  my sink and in my medicine cabinet and you tell me how to use it.” (“Alias Jane,” by Cindy Wolfe Boynton, MS, Fall, 2018, pg. 39.) She needed an abortion and she needed it soon.  The year was

Christmas is almost here, and I’m already looking forward to turning the calendar page on 2017.  But it wasn’t all bad.  Science had a good year. Gene therapy made inroads in the fight against cancer.   Folks allergic to peanuts may soon have a treatment.  Even a man, paralyz