As a writer, I'm often asked where do I find my ideas? How do I get started? I start with two words: What if. I find...
Lifestyle
World Building Or Worldview
Hi, my name is Betsy, and I suck at world building. I can no more create a mysterious land, populate it with rare and...
Loving Our Bad Boys
Why is it that we fall in love with our bad boys? I don't mean in real life, although that was true once for me when I...
Dragons and Funny Interpretations
You all know I'm going through rehab to strengthen the wrist I broke on April 25. It's getting better. I have enough...
“Wait, What?”
A few years back, James Ryan gave a commencement speech at Harvard's College of Education where he advised graduates...
Learning To Be Me
Most of you who know me or who have been following me know I'm independent and stubborn. That's a double...
Honoring Our Mothers
I was going to write a lengthy post about writers and our inquisitive minds. And then I broke my right wrist. I am...
Tinkering
At dinner the other night, several friends bemoaned how their grandkids don't tinker. They don't take their toys...
Oil
When did oil become a cult substance? I mean, when did we suddenly need a gazillion oils in order to cook anything? I...
Frazzled
That's the adjective that defines me right about now. As usual, I have too much on my plate, too little of me to get...
Crying Towels
The scene is set for an interesting eavesdropping opportunity. One woman sits alone in a coffee shop, her latte beside...
Three Weeks
Every year on February 15, I run this poem somewhere. It might be on FB, on Wattpad, here on my blog. Why? Because on...