I received very kind messages on Mother’s Day from family and friends who probably thought it would be a hard day for me since it’s the first one without my mom, and since, despite all of my efforts, I haven’t been able to become one. Surprisingly, I didn’t feel too bad that day. I have felt worse on ordinary Tuesdays. I had this calm desire to take care of myself, my dog included as an extension of me, to take care of my needs, worry only about the wrinkles in my neck, my ha

When the Spanish version of my book, The Last Margaret Keane, came out, the publisher invited me to participate in the LeaLA Festival in Los Angeles. My husband and I drove from Phoenix, where we were visiting his parents, to attend. Sadly, my books didn’t arrive on time, so I didn’t have anything to sell at my table. The publisher had given me a table where I was supposed to have one hour to display my book and try to sell it. I had made a banner that came out beautiful, and

There is now on Netflix a documentary called The Truth and Tragedy of Moriah Wilson. A very young girl was killed by another young girl over a boy they both liked. They interview the mother of the deceased, Moriah, and at some point, she says, “Grief is like a mud pit. You can go around it and around it, trying to avoid getting in the mud, but the only way to get to the other side is through it.” I am realizing now that I am finally in the mud. It’s been six months since my m

Yesterday was the Miami Zine Fair. I had worked very hard to finish my fanzine in time, to have it sitting on a table, out in the world, for people to see. I finished it on Friday around 11pm and went to sleep excited. Excited to finally show it. Saturday morning, I woke up around 8am. I made myself a hot chocolate instead of coffee so my energy would feel more steady. I sat on the couch to watch TV for a while. The fair wasn’t until noon. At 10am, I was still there. Unable t