Last week I wrote about the enisling that often creates the central structure of a novel. (And I think I misspelled it..) This enclosure results in a driving force within the story–the arrival of The Other, the stranger, the prodigal, the visitor, or in Maine, Summer People. During my teens I lived on the shore of…

On Wednesday I joined three friends for a sunset cruise of Casco Bay. The bay has well over a hundred islands, some habitable, some desolate, all lush and attractive. We speculated on the homes we could see and wondered how long human beings have used these coastal islands as a refuge. Then we were back…

Sounds like a new drug, eh? Ask your doctor if Umbrage is right for you.  No, umbrage is my reaction to having created a post and being told that publishing it was an invalid request! So now there’s a critic in my keyboard? Is there an app for that? I’m critical enough for both of us…

  As my cousin Fran has reminded me, when we were kids I drew layouts of houses. Our grandad was a building inspector, and I rode with him sometimes when he went to construction sites. Then I listened when he commented on what he had seen. I remember his complaints when he found stall doors in public…

  Ten days with no bloggery–unthinkable, but true. I warned you that I was hitting the road, but I hadn’t planned on finding no wi-fi over the 2100 miles I drove, nor the absence of it in my sister’s house when I arrived, but yesterday my dear, smart, computer-professional nephew and his wife fixed all…