It has been a beautiful, lingering fall in Atlanta, but I have taken not one photo of the glorious color outside my door. Instead, I have focused on the people who fill our home, create our history, and make me feel grounded here, in this place, in this year at home that's coming to a close faster than I dreamed it would.

The wild (and noisy!) joy between grandfather and granddaughter, chasing each other all over the house. Making bread with Grandma. Washing dishes. Befriending the new puppy. Simple tasks. Meals shared, friends welcomed, family come home again, traditions upheld as the earth spins 'round, one more autumn, one more time.

And somewhere in there, a novel is getting finished. Shhhhhh.... it's a much more delicate baby than the Darling screeching around our place these days. But it's becoming sturdier by the day, bones stretching, muscle growing, and a dear heart beating, ready to be born. It's almost ready for an editor's eyes. Almost. Almost.



Howdy. Moderating comments to prevent spam. I'm sure you're not that. Thanks for your thoughts! Write on, warrior on. Make art.