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
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