I crossed the California state line in San Bernardino County at 3:18 p.m. October 2, not far from where the Mojave Desert meets the San Andreas Fault. “Not far” being a relative term for a woman who had already logged more than 5,000 miles on her Toyota Prius – much Read more…
Last time I blogged, I promised I’d write about the drive from Flagstaff, Arizona, to Monterey, California. Well, I completely forgot about the miles between Albuquerque, New Mexico and Flagstaff. So Monterey will have to wait. Let’s begin this leg of the journey with a story: when I was younger, Read more…
Leaving Mississippi last Monday, I turned my little car west and drove across miles and miles of flat Texas land, thinking of my father and our trips south to see him each summer, before his death in April 1999. While Dale Berry’s final resting place is in our family plot Read more…
My literary journey is taking on a life of its own, as I discovered that this trip is really about the writing. I’m on a quest for a story, of which I don’t know the topic or the title. And as I drive these highways and byways, grieving upon hearing Read more…
I haven’t quite gotten the hang of writing from the open road. You would think it would be so easy: just walk into your hotel room, open your laptop, and begin writing, right? Not so much. At least, not for me. I’ve struggled to find a balance between driving, interacting Read more…
I’m on a long and windy literary tour, which, thanks to Hurricane Hermine, has already featured one unexpected detour. While not taking Route 66, which is what I once planned to do, years ago, I am stopping to smell the roses where I can, meeting and writing about people who Read more…
I am currently without address. Unlike people who are without country, however, it isn’t that I don’t have one. I do. It’s just that the United States Postal Service and I can’t agree on where that is. The problem began in February, while I was in Florida on book tour. Read more…
My heart is heavy after hearing the news out of Orlando. Upon realizing that the mass shooting at a gay nightclub is the worst one in U.S. history. My son is gay. So was my Uncle Robert. I’ve been around gay family members since the early 1970s, after my mother Read more…
June 2, 2018 By Anonymous Reporter ANY CITY, U.S.A.—Under cover of darkness, a lone woman wearing a ski mask to hide her identity met me in an empty warehouse, far from the glow of the city lights. She was skittish, and kept glancing around as if afraid she was followed Read more…
One year ago this month, an anesthesiologist sedated me. Then a surgeon used a power saw to cut through the bones in both legs. When I woke up a few hours later I had two brand-spanking-new knees. They have served me well, too. Five weeks after surgery, I was dancing Read more…