• Hanging out the laundry to dry in the hot sun. That’s a thing a retired woman has time to do. And savor. String out the line, drape the sheets, clip on the wooden clothespins. Listen to the cheeping nuthatches scolding that you’ve interrupted their breakfast. Imagine yourself as a part of a long long line of women caring for the small details of the home.

    Tell you what, though. A few summers ago, I rhapsodized on this subject to my mother. She snorted and rattled off her memories–winter mornings on the prairie in southern Alberta, hanging out the wet clothes, hands red and frigid; or running out in a mean whipping wind, fighting to keep shirts and dresses from flying off, or rescuing nicely dried sheets from a sudden squall.

    Adding her sharp memories to my own odd joy in the task seems right just now. A year ago, I was with her as she was getting ready to leave us. It was lovely. And hard. She was delicate, yet tough as the Alberta roses she adored. And we all miss her.

    Photo by Susan Palmer

  • Only you can write it

    If you’re pondering whether to join me for a writing workshop on Saturday in Eugene, here are two things to consider: one alarming, the other magical.

    Because self-publishing is so easy now and because AI makes faking it even easier, the world is flooded every year with new books. In 2025, Publishers Weekly reported 4.2 million books were published. Twenty years ago, the total was 282,500. That’s a 1,387 percent increase. In that time, the US population increased by just 15 percent.

    What can a writer hope to do, faced with that kind of competition?

    We do what we’ve always done. We write anyway.

    Here’s the magical part. Only you can write the stories that are in you. To do that, you need three practices that evolve over a lifetime of writing. You need to know yourself. You need to know what excites your deep curiosity and makes you want to grab a pen. You need to know language.

    On Saturday we’ll play with three techniques that will build your noticing skills across those areas. Why? Because in a world filled with fakes, readers need the story that only you can write.

    Use the link below to register.

  • The sweet secret of practice

    Come join me for a fun afternoon of writing practice in two weeks. Like the great music and art masters, we’ll be building muscle memory and training the brain. But this isn’t like practicing scales or mastering vanishing points. This is being surprised, then delighted, by where your creativity carries you.

    I like using the consummate musician Jon Batiste as exhibit A for the unexpected wonders of practice. His performance last summer in Eugene featured Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata. Batiste morphed it from 19th century classical into 21st century jazz. His practice frees him to play, and make any genre uniquely his.

    Writers at any stage will benefit from the techniques we’ll play with and there are still some open slots in the class. So bring your favorite writing tools and join us. Register at the link below.

    Photos by Susan Palmer