I was delighted when I discovered Five Minutes. They publish micro memoirs of 100 words about five minutes in one's life. My piece, This Year, was published this week.

For the past year and a half, my family has been struggling with the aftermath of long COVID. Last week, I published this essay, Parenting with Long COVID Is the Nightmare No One Talks About, in Tiny Beans. It was a hard topic to explore, but I hope other families affected by Long COVID and other devastating chronic illnesses feel a little less alone when they read it.

Maine Writers & Publishers Alliance (MWPA) recently started a project called Read & Loved which "spotlights hidden gems by Maine writers." Taryn Bowe, the Associate Director of MWPA, recently selected my essay, "Winter Song," to be featured in Read & Loved. You can read Taryn's comments in the Read & Loved post here. Anyone can submit to Read & Loved, so if you love a piece of writing by a Maine author, you can learn more about the process and submit here.

My latest newsletter has arrived. It features Andrea Lani's forthcoming book, "Uphill Both Ways: Hiking toward Happiness on the Colorado Trail," a tiny cat knitting pattern from Ravelry, some reading recommendations, and more! You can find the newsletter here. Want to receive the newsletter in your inbox? Sign up here.

The folks at Farmer-ish recently reached out to let me know that they were nominating my essay, "Winter Song," for a Maine Literary Award. I'm grateful to them for their belief in the piece. The essay is about a dog, winter memories, and grief, as well as restoration and hope.

I'm delighted to have an essay in the Winter Solstice Issue of Farmer-ish, Winter Song, which is about our old dog Elsie, grief, and hope for a restorative winter. I'd also encourage you to check out the entire Winter Solstice issue as well as their previous online issues and lovely 2021 print annual, which you can learn more about here.

I recently had an essay, Grieving My First Husband's Death & My Second Husband's Deployment, published in Insider Parenting. This was a hard one. I wrote the first draft of the essay in December 2020, not long after my husband deployed, and then I couldn't touch it for many, many months. I wrestled with edits here and there, and then cut it down to half its original length for Insider. The past couple years have been so difficult for many people, but I think enormously so for parents, especially those of young children. I was dealing with a  lot of stress when I wrote the essay, but honestly, it's nothing compared to what I have experienced recently, nearly a year into solo parenting three children through a pandemic. Though the essay, which explores how my grief (and parenting experience) around my first husband's death mirrored so closely that of my second husband's deployment, was challenging to write, I'm grateful to have it out in the world.

I'm delighted to have a new essay in Taproot's Issue 47::SUSTAIN. This essay explores some of the ways I have dealt with my grief over the years, especially regarding the things that I always find myself turning to for comfort and sustenance during difficult times: knitting, baking, gardening, and, of course, writing. Taproot is a lovely ad-free and Maine-based publication full of beautiful words, stunning art, recipes, projects, and more, and I'm always honored to have my work included in their pages. If you haven't checked them out yet, I highly recommend picking up an issue or, if you are local to Maine, stopping by their Portland storefront.

My May/June 2021 newsletter is here (it's still June, just barely). This issue features writer Abby Maslin, a delicious cake recipe from Sally's Baking Addiction (my go-to for birthday cake recipes), a fact about gold from Zoe, and some writing updates. Enjoy! You can read the May/June 2021 newsletter here.

I recently had an essay published by Motherwell Magazine about grief, love, and dreaming about what it would look like if my two husbands (and ultimately my two families) could meet. My first husband has been dead for many years, so it's an impossible but sweet reverie. You can read the essay on Motherwell here.