United States
I’m a writer specializing in memoir and I’ve worked as an editor and proofreader for almost twenty years. Most of that work has been with first-time authors, but I’ve also helped businesses and nonprofits with their written material as well as graduate school applicants in writing the required essays.
My grandparents had two big, long greenhouses on the hill behind their house.
I was about six, sitting in the back seat of my father's car on our way to a good Italian dinner in Old Forge, Pennsylvania.
I was surprised, and not just a little pissed off, when the world was still going about its business the morning after my father died.
One of my earliest memories is of watching a favorite mare give birth to her first foal.
"He was my North, my South, my East and West." My grandfather, Chuck Manness.
For years, at holidaytime, I've posted an essay that I wrote about my own Christmas memories, how they've touched my life, and how much joy they've given me over my long lifetime.
My grandparents had three huge old cedar trees in their almost football field-sized front yard.
I can't remember the last time, in stillness, I watched raindrops falling off leaves.
I have a rule: everything in my house must either be used regularly - like a favorite wooden spoon, the food processor, my beloved Gien teapot, pretty linens - be a family heirloom, or be so beautiful (to me) that I can't part with it.