My Western Sky

Like so many of my friends who live in the Dallas-Ft. Worth area, I am deeply saddened by the news of Kidd Kraddick's sudden death. It seems that many of us have used social media as an outlet to express our shock and grief. I posted this on Facebook yesterday. Obviously, I needed more than 140 characters to express my thoughts: I'm still in shock and searching for words... So many of my DFW friends' hearts are hurting at the horrible news of Kidd Kraddick's sudden death. Ironically, I listened to the "deathbed confessions" of Kidd and the gang last week. For a fleeting moment I thought, What if one of them dies in the near future? Will these be so funny? Honestly, they made me uncomfortable, but I quickly brushed the fe eling away and went on laughing while I drove to teach. So when I read the news via FB and Twitter last night, I immediately thought it was a tasteless hoax. But that was not Kidd's style. Even though I never met him personally, I felt

This time last summer I went on my first Facebook Fast, which made such an impression on me that I wrote a post about it and am noting its one-year anniversary. Since that week-long detox from my social media drug of choice, I have been hyper-aware of how addicted I am to Facebook and have tried (unsuccessfully) to break the habit. Even though I have other social media accounts, I don't check them as religiously as I do FB. They don't hold the same power over me as that little blue f. Well, not until last week when I discovered the greatness of Twitter. I hopped on the Twitter train during last year's Summer Olympics. I wanted to keep tabs on the US Women's Gymnastics Team and my other favorite Olympians, so I finally worked up the nerve to create a Twitter account. Even though people tried to explain it to me, the truth was that Twitter intimidated me. It felt like there were so many secret handshakes that I wasn't cool enough to understand. I couldn't com

In January, I shared my secret--that I finally had an idea for a book.  (July actually marks the year anniversary that the idea first popped into my head.) Over the past six months, this little idea has morphed into a full-fledged plot with a beginning, middle, and end, full of characters that I have grown to love and loathe, and a sense of place that has taken root in my mind. I know exactly where this is going; I've written many of the key scenes; it's the connecting parts that have me stumped. But I'm still chipping away, trying to become disciplined in the process of writing a little each day. After all, that's how you eat an elephant--one bite at a time. And that's how stories come to life--word after word after word...  I am not ready to share what this book is about. I am tentatively telling my close friends, "I'm writing a book" almost in a whisper, just to try this "writer" thing on and also for a little accountability. Only a few