Having taken turns writing for radio and reference books--and cranking out an unbearably serious first novel--I'm now exploring the lighter side of life: Having MS.
Lost: One husband off the coast of Lake Erie. Last seen wearing leather hip boots and a cutlass.
Toby the Pomeranian, guarding his rose bush.
Backyard ceasefire: Black Lace waving white flag in foreground.
Psych Ward: My writing room. They let me out Thursdays and every other weekend. Not pictured: Bloodied brick wall, which I routinely run into, head first.
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