The Compass That Keeps Me Pointed North in the Journey Towards Love

A few days ago, I was doing some work at a local Panera (I KNOW) when this elderly couple at the table next to me sat down. They didn’t have a sense of being an old married-type of couple — you know, how people start to walk alike and have the same rhythm and expressions, a very settled shared pace and ease. This couple had kind of a nervous, curious energy together, like they were new to each other in some way. I’m a big observer of people — a more polite way to say I’m freaking nosy as hell!

What We Learn When We Learn About Love

Every Tuesday, I meet my sister and her kids for a quick supper right at 6:15pm. She’s usually between dance and tae kwon do classes for the kiddos; I’m on my way to the gym. It’s a nice way to see my family and catch up quickly, and chat with my sister. Last week I was telling her about celebrating my sweetheart’s birthday with dinner with his parents over the weekend. My five-year-old nephew was listening in on the conversation, and he cocked his head when he heard this and said, “Wow, you must really love him!” his eyes all

Imaginary Conversations with Isabel Archer

Longtime readers know that Henry James’ Portrait of a Lady is one of my favorite novels. Like the big English major dork that I am, I’ve re-read it many times in my life. I never fail to become fascinated by what is essentially a deep psychological study of one of the greatest characters in English-language literature. That’s a big claim to make, but James captures his heroine Isabel Archer’s transformation from a quicksilver, independent, intelligent ingenue into a “lady,” entombed in societal convention in the worst way possible — through her marriage with a venal, gold-digging gentleman and her own

On Sincerity

It’s easy to take words for granted. Generally, most of us use them everyday, either in speech, through writing, in texts and e-mails. As a writer by vocation, I use them all the time, torrents of words spilling out of me wih fluency and ease. Or so I wish; maybe on a good day that is true. Most days, though, I can use words quite carelessly, slap-dash, rushing through whole strings of them to get to the next thought. Lately, though, I have been trying to be curious about words again, as if I am still new to language. When