I admire Meryl Streep and think she’s one of the best actresses of our time. One of the things I like best about her is her versatility. She’s portrayed historical figures, she’s done heart wrenching drama, she’s done light as air comedy, she’s even sung in a musical.  Her talent isn’t boxed in and she’s not known for any one thing. She’s just all around great.
I admire Bruce Springsteen, too. Try to put the music he’s written into a box and you’ll find it hard to do. He has songs that are classic rock, songs that are ballads, bluesy songs, gospel-like songs, torch songs, folk songs and songs with a taste of country. He’s versatile, too, and that’s what I like about him. It’s one of the things that make him such a great musician.
Versatility is a wonderful thing for an artist. Without it, you can get stuck in a rut, saying the same thing over and over again. No one wants to be a one trick pony. Better to stretch your wings and reach for something new. Even if it misses the mark, you learn something. You grow.
I like writing new characters with lives and loves different from my own. I like writing funny books. And I also like writing books that drill down into the heart, and books that are set in another time and place. I’ve dabbled with magical realism, that was fun too.  I’ve written poems and blog posts.  All of this has helped me to grow as a writer. It’s kept writing alive and interesting for me. The hope is that the books written with passion and love will be full of life and love for you, the reader.
But versatility is a double edged sword. It’s not a good thing from a marketing standpoint, because it can’t be easily catalogued. I can’t put ‘Quirky Chick Lit’ on my business cards because while Confessions of the Sausage Queen might fit that description, Blueberry Truth decidedly does not.  Being hard to pin down makes the job of marketing much harder. And I’ve thought, long and hard, about writing one kind of thing and sticking to it so I can sell more. Or using pen names for the various kinds of books I sell.
In the end, though, I have to be true to me. And, in truth, I pride myself on versatility. I like emulating people like Streep and Springsteen.  I don’t want to write under a pen name, because all of these books belong to me. They are my universes, my creations. And I’m very proud of them.
So, I’ve decided to embrace versatility. I’ve decided it’s okay to write a historical series and a quirky comedy and a bit of literary women’s fiction. I will not fit into a single box, but I will give each project my attention, I will do my very best with each book I write. I will stretch my writing wings and hope there’s some air under them. And I hope that you, dear reader, won’t mind the variety in my body of a work. I think you’ll like it.  I have a sneaking suspicion that you like versatility, too.
​

As I write this, a big old pot of sausage tortellini soup is bubbling on the stove. Paired with bread and/or a salad, it’s a perfect meal for a cool day. And best of all, it’s easy to make.
Sausage Tortellini Soup
Ingredients:
1 lb. hot Italian sausage, casing removed
1 cup chopped onions
2 garlic cloves, minced
6 cups beef broth
1 large (28oz) can diced tomatoes
1 T basil
1 t Italian spice
2 T parsley
1 (13oz) package frozen cheese tortellini
 
Directions:
1.       In a large soup pot or 6 quart Dutch oven, brown sausage.
2.       Add onion and garlic, cook until tender
3.       Stir in beef broth and spices. Bring to boil
4.       Add tortellini. Cover and simmer for 1 hour (or longer, if you like)
That’s all there is to it. I like to sprinkle a little fresh grated parmigiana on top of each bowlful before serving.
Enjoy!
​

Occasionally, come across a book I want to press into other reader’s hands while saying, “Read this one, you must read this one.”
Reading Anne Tyler is like sitting on the porch on a perfect summer’s evening. Crickets give a concert. The smell of fresh mowed grass fills the air. Ahh, yes. Perfect.  And understated, because below the comfortable and lovely surface is a deep exploration of our human frailties and insecurities. Our wants and desires, our loves and our fears are all deeply engraved in Tyler’s novels.  
The Beginner’s Goodbye is a perfect example of Tyler’s rare talent. There is nothing high concept in the premise of this story; a man loses his wife in a tragic accident and must learn to deal with his loss. It’s a short book, not much more than two hundred pages. You could, on the surface, dismiss it as simplistic. But it’s not simple at all.
The husband, Aaron, narrates the story.  A childhood illness has left Aaron with disabilities that effect his motor coordination. As a result, he is acutely aware of how people tend to coddle him. Aaron hates being coddled. If he wants anything, it’s to be independent. Which, to him, means not being needed and needing no one.
It’s no wonder he chooses to marry Dorothy.  She’s socially awkward and has difficulty connecting emotionally to others. A perfect choice for a man who doesn’t want to be needy.
The story opens after Dorothy has already died. Aaron is devastated. Over time, he learns to deal with his grief. And, he finds that Dorothy may not have been the perfect mate after all.  He learns that needing others, and conversely, letting them lean on you, isn’t a character flaw. It might, in fact, be a better way of living.
Often, it seems, stories come when you need them. I’ve been dealing with the loss of a good friend these past weeks. Tyler, with her gentle humor and lovely writing style, shows the way through loss.  And now, whether or not you’re dealing with grief, wherever you are in life, I’m pressing this book into your hands. Find a quiet spot, preferably outside. If there are crickets and fresh mowed grass, all the better. Spend the afternoon in these pages. It’ll be worth it. I promise.
   
​

My dear friend, Carolyn Saari, passed away last week. She'd been battling illness for some time and, over the past few weeks, her health declined dramatically.
​I met Carolyn at a writing workshop that was held on Thursday mornings in Peterborough, New Hampshire. After the workshop ended, Carolyn and I kept writing together on Thursdays for a dozen-odd years. Joined by a few writing friends, we supported each other's work and, as always happens, each other's lives as well. 
​I will miss her bright wit, her passion for the world, and her wise words. Most of all, I will miss her generous spirit. I am beyond grateful to have had her in my life and she will, always, have a place in my heart.