I’m sitting on pins and needles, waiting to hear what people have to say about my first poetry collection Whistler of Petty Crimes. I fret a little, worried readers will find it too much about
This past summer, in Taos, New Mexico, I spent six weeks nestled inside adobe walls. The walls of the home were thick red mud, caked by man and baked by sun. The garden and patio...
Recently, my granddaughter Sophie Eagle and I visited Minneapolis expressly to explore, not the giant Mall of the Americas, but rather a small independent bookshop owned by the Ojibway author, Louise Erdrich. In keeping with
A post-covid phenomenon that seems to linger is that our events-horizons have shortened. That’s just a fancy way of saying most of us are not planning far in advance, at least not in the way
All marketing wizards in the queendom of Authorland want me to spell out my mission. I suppose in common vernacular it means something like this: “Hey Bubbette! Why are you writing?” According to the wise
My birth was rocky back in 1949. For me, life began with a weak pulse. Premature almost a full month, I spent weeks fighting my way past the incubator cage and into the world. Every
It is a really hectic time for me—packing up to move from Texas to Oregon. This time for good. Just a few days and I’m really truly off. My final few days after 40 plus
Recently, one of my friends and a member of the Texas Circle, made a comment about navigating the divisiveness between segments of the America public. “We’ve gotta watch everything we say.” She alluded to how
Thanks to ike’s oldest granddaughter’s perseverance over several months, the ikewest.com website has a new face—and on some pages, new information. Sophie watched her dad, Bryan of Eaglepixel.com, create websites all her growing up years.
I grew up telling my parents about memories I had as a baby. They were astounded by what I shared. I described an old crib and where it stood by a window. Covered in green