The hero’s name, Aram, is rather unusual. Wonder why I called him that?

I wrote this statement, hoping that it might help reviewers and bookstore operators understand the vantage point from which I wrote the novel. There are a few characters who range along the spectrum, and I wrote them with love and optimism. It occurs to me that you, the reader, might also be interested in my perspective, so here it is.

Oh, dear. If ever a young woman needed to develop sensitivity, it’s Jannie. Her heart is good, and she’s a smart executive, but she has so much to learn (and, dare I say it, it’s just so hard to do).

To celebrate the January 24, 2023 launch of So Hard to Do, we’re peeking behind the curtain for some never-before-released insights. Every day this week, ending Friday January 27, I’ll release new material about the novel. Enjoy!

At first, Christmas with our new baby was terrifying. It took a Sick Kids Hospital miracle to save her. This story was first published in the Niagara-on-the-Lake Advance in December 2017.

As a child, I dreamed of being a ballerina. Tiptoe back in time with me!

This story won first place/non-fiction at the last Rising Spirits Awards.

Oh, to be seventeen again?

My diaries from that time in my life reverberate with angst and occasional joyfulness. In this story, a version of which won third prize in NOWW’s 2022 Writing Contest, I tried to recreate those feelings.

Have you tried writing micro-fiction? It’s fun! Here’s my 50-word story that was published in Blink-Ink’s Issue #28: The Enchanted Forest. I took this photo of the tiny publication next to my portrait, painted by my good friend Ellen Smith.

Every word about my friend is true. I still miss her very much.

On the other hand, I made up everything about the husband in this story. My real spouse doesn’t golf (or use big words!).

This sad little fiction about a meltdown at a mall earned an Honorable Mention from Women on Writing in 2017.

When I was little, a monster hid in this dresser. It taunted me every night.

As strawberry season approaches, I think of my dad. I wrote this with love, and with a yearning for dollops of whipped cream on freshly baked shortcake.

On every trip my parents took, they collected a spoon. I’d love to hear the memories attached to each one—if only silver could speak.

This unpleasant little tale won second prize in the 2017 Writers on the Heath (UK) short fiction contest. It earned me one of my first ever cash prizes and an interview on a local radio station. I’m sorry to report I babbled.

I wrote this after attending the funeral of my dear friend’s mom. My memories of her are from long ago—many of them are fragmented, but still vivid. I attempted to capture a few in this piece, and to pay tribute to a remarkable and much-loved woman.

This memoir piece is true, except for my boyfriend’s name. I entered a shorter version into the 2016 Gotham Writers 91-Word Memoir Contest, where it made the list of finalists.

When I was fifteen, my dad got a new job, and we moved from Kingston, Ontario to Atlanta, Georgia. This memoir piece captures a day in my life soon after we arrived. It was a significant date for the human race, and a deeply personal one for me.