A few weeks ago, my younger son said, "Mom, let's go out to breakfast." We went to a local spot, and as I took my seat, I instantly noticed an older married couple across the way. One sipped cranberry juice, the other iced tea. And they sat quietly. As my son and I chatted away about his plans for the weekend I kept stealing glances at the couple. There was no tension, I could tell. They looked so comfortable being quiet. So at ease. In between my bites of gluten free creamed

I love my three younger sisters. I figured I'd let you in on these three wickedly cool broads. Meghan is two years younger than me. We shared a bedroom until I was 17 years old. Bunk beds and all. I was top bunk and she bottom and we had this long mirror that we'd talk through after lights were out. Our topics generally ranged from boys to boys. We actually created this secret collection of "Kathleen + _______ "and "Meghan + _______" hearts scrawled on the underside of my top

Luck often feels like a mysterious force, something that happens to others but not to us. Yet, when it comes to creative work and writing, waiting for luck to strike is a losing game. This Saint Patrick’s Day, it’s time to rethink luck and discover how you can make your own luck in your creative endeavors. Whether you’re drafting your next novel, brainstorming ideas, or polishing your writing skills, the magic lies in your hands. The Myth of Luck and Creativity Many creative

Why wanting less can sometimes give you more. Have you ever wanted something so badly it felt like your life was on pause? In this post, I want to share a simple shift that helped me move forward when effort alone wasn’t enough. And, how letting go can actually bring you closer to what you want. At the risk of sounding hokey and new agey, I suggest this: set it free. If you've done everything humanly possible to achieve what it is you want, and I do mean everything, then rele

Firsts. We all have them. They're just a part of life. Even plants have firsts. The first time they sprouted. The first time they felt sun. The first time they were pruned. Recently, I started to think about some of my firsts. The obvious ones pushed to the front of the line and occupied some of my thinking. First kiss with a red headed boy in my driveway in 8th grade. First public vomit in Sister Katherine's 5th grade (first and last, thank god. It was Campbell's Chunky Sirl

A POST FROM MY OLD BLOG February 13, 2012 A Scary Book Since turning in my revisions back to my editor, I have started writing a new book. It doesn't have a title, but then again, none of my books had a title this early. It does have a sixteen-year-old girl with a little brother who sees and communicates with ghosts, and a creepy house from the late 1700s, and an adorably love interest and, and, and... I can only write this book in the day. When I'm "in it" even the phone rin

After a nine-year pause, I finally have a new YA novel coming out. It's called PORTAL. And I sold it myself.

I'm proud to share that Ultimatum was recently chosen to be included on Ezvid Wiki's Heart-Wrenching YA Books About Dealing With Loss...

I can’t believe it has been four years since I posted about lasts, but today marks the end of something treasured: goodbye morning hugs....

What a sad day. What a sad week. Loss is a heavy, heavy thing. It demands to sit on shoulders. There is no asking permission. I guess...