For a year, I’ve searched for an agent to represent for my memoir, Getting Lost to Find Home. For the past two months, the manuscript has been under review with a London office.  A few days ago,  I emailed the agent to ask if the submission was still under review. As yet, I’ve r

All I wanted to do in my retirement years was write.  I presumed the easiest way to do that was to find a publisher and let the company go through the mechanics of getting my books into print.  So far that decision has proved unsatisfactory. I won’t go into details, but gi

It’s uncivil of me, I suppose, to pick another quarrel with Amazon. After all, for the past week, the company has been running ads for my book, Heart Land, without a request or payment from me. In fact, that they’re running the ad in tandem The Ninth Hour is flattering.  Of cours

Opening my electronic mail, recently, I found as comment from a reader: “Each time I read Gothic Spring, or any of your novels, really, I’m reminded again that you are a storyteller extraordinaire.” I’m not modest enough to bury the compliment.  Writers cherish a few kind

A Facebook friend put up a snapshot of me attending a writer friend’s book signing.  I had braved a dark and stormy night to get there so when I spied my picture on social media, I wrote, “It looks like Albert Einstein and I have the same hairdresser.”  Yes, at my age, I can l

While I cling to my hope of finding a big agent for my 4th novel, I know the trend is against me.  Self-publishing is becoming so acceptable, that big publishers are getting into the business.  Even the New York Times Bestseller list includes self-published authors, something that w