The Space Between

Talk to the Hands …

Despite having a head full of fireworks, I’m a plotter and planner at my core. I plan meals in advance, vacations and, now-a-days, my book plots. Over the decades, I’ve learned to be flexible, knowing that stuff happens – crosswinds that hit just as I’m ready to defrost a brisket – grandkids who catch colds, a spontaneous dinner invitation with old friends, a snowstorm, and even the Grand Dame of…

Photoshop, Painless Plastic Surgery – aka, The New Me!

I’m not a big fan of surgery. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve been fond/grateful to a few surgeons for their profound talent in keeping me going. Another, my son, remains close to my heart because he’s my kid. But after more than my fair share of slicing and dicing, surgery falls into the same category as dental treatment without anesthesia. Since I’ve already shamelessly bellowed from the rooftops…

I have a love/hate relationship with September…

August 30, 2022 As a summer soul, September comes with mixed feelings; letting go of the warmth, fresh tomatoes and corn, and the rigor that creeps back as school begins for my grandkids, I face my unfinished projects and of course my fund raising month. Although always excited to see the generosity of others and their support for me personally, fundraising for my own disease stirs up a lot of…

In the Hands of Women, my debut historical novel is born.

Can it be real? It feels impossible after so many months – has it been twenty already? So much crazy time has been spent writing, researching, revising, editing, soul-searching and binge eating Cheez-Its to get through this project! Three hundred sixty pages of historical fiction. It feels surreal, like giving birth – a whole book… so hard to fathom. What will I do without the intimate friends…

Beginning May this year, NJ jumped on the bandwagon, recognizing our penchant for waste through the use of one-use bags has become unsustainable. Not only has this regulation come with the usual humor, but like any disruption in our lives, it’s also introduced opportunity. This morning I stood behind a 20-something year-old gentleman who chose to stuff his groceries into every pocket of his…

My wedding band(s)!

Recently, I changed my wedding band – again. I’d had several over the years, each representing a different part of my life. Wedding bands are strange little ornaments, a statement to the world that one is neatly accounted for in a marriage. But, for me, it’s also been a message to myself – a very personal one, a reflection of who I am at a given point in life’s journey. At the embarrassingly…

Living is what I do…

In a time where so many, including myself, have secluded at home to ward off our modern-day plague, I’m living my brains out, cancer be damned. I’ve had years of practice working out my life balance – measuring health needs against my zest for living. As a result, thanks to many, including possibly the almighty, I continue to have healthy intervals between lab tests, CT scans, surgery, and…

Walking Miami Beach

It’s been a while since I’ve written a blog. Although I’ve had many topics (such as getting served Swedish Fish and a small bottle of water for breakfast on a first class flight to Nashville), I’ve run out of head space between revision of my historical novel and a new consulting gig. The novel is my best work yet. Imagine the setting – turn of the nineteenth century New York City, a young female…

Alas! I can hear again.

Twelve years ago, I lost my hearing during a six month period of chemotherapy. The metal poisons not only destroyed my cancer cells, but did a number on my cochlea, in my inner ears. One day I could hear the sound of birds chirping, soft wind and whispers; the next I was one of those irritating people constantly saying, “What?” I visited an Audiologist two times back then, over a decade ago, to…

What Gratitude Looks Like to Me

This morning I repeatedly checked the patient portal at my oncologist’s office for my ovarian cancer lab work. It has been eight weeks since my previous lab test and twelve years since my diagnosis. Although I’ve been able to keep a cool head living with cancer, I’m still really nervous when it’s time for lab work.   My husband David, an attorney, once described it as waiting for your bar exam…

Voices in My Head

Since my retirement in late 2018, I’ve developed a deep appreciation for the magic in writing. Since I don’t understand the complexities of the brain that result in creative, spontaneous thoughts, the word magic will need to suffice for now. Yesterday, I was writing a scene I’d planned for my historical novel. An older doctor in 1906 visits a dear friend, also a doctor, to offer guidance. I had…

There’s Something about my Garden

The news is ugly. The virus isn’t completely gone and my friends are still nervous – what’s the final say on the masks? World peace is like an acrobat balancing on a high wire. But, my garden, my earthy spot of joy, is on steroids cranking out berries, beans and tomatoes. My life-long fascination with gardening started when I was a little kid, scraping the ground with a stick to plant a few…

What’s on Your Nightstand?

The year is 1906. Birth control and abortion are both illegal. What’s a girl to do? This is the backdrop for my second novel, The Lesser of Evils (working title), exploring this fascinating period of history through the life of Hannah Isaacson, my protagonist, one of the first obstetricians in New York City. These books are what I now read. Other than my book club selection for the month, my…

If I were to describe myself, I’d say I exist inside the proverbial box 80% of the time. I take comfort in my routines, particularly my morning coffee. I turn in early, write early and eat early. My habits help me stay productive, and typically I’m in bed at 9 or 9:30 when my eyes give out. I fall asleep satisfied. In the other 20%, my mind is anywhere and everywhere else. I’m on a mission to…

“Poppy, are we there yet?”

Sitting at the kitchen table, scanning the ‘It’s a year later’ Sunday Times headline stories, I can’t help but think back to myself as a child, unbuckled (there were no seatbelts) in the rear seat of my father’s car, on our endless drives to visit our grandparents in Brooklyn. Those car rides felt interminable as our eyes bounced between the same landmarks as we left New Jersey, crossed Staten…

I’m not exceptionally comfortable dealing with anger, my least favorite emotion. Gauging the ‘correct’ reaction to a slight has never come easily. As an avid observer of others, I look for good examples of anger management and occasionally try them on. Typically the fit feels awkward. Now, as a writer striving to amp up my work with tension, anxiety, and, yes, anger, I have discovered the…