Essays & Media

One day, many years ago, my husband suddenly told me he wanted a divorce. Between the moment he said that he missed his freedom and the slamming of the door when he left, I learned what it meant to watch your life crumble into tiny pieces.

On Tuesday, I sit at my desk, turn on my computer, and check my inbox, hoping for good news of some kind, but every morning, I’m inundated with sales, political updates, and organizations seeking my attention or money.

Although I’ve always loved reading, I knew little about writing, and even less about publishing before my first novel launched in 2019. I was completely unprepared for how much work all of it would be. I didn’t have any social media accounts, didn’t know anyone else who’d published a mystery, and had never met a book publicist. I had a vague idea that the publisher would put my books in bookstores and libraries, and people would flock to buy them, but that, surprisingly, turned out to be a myth.

Do you know someone who, after you explain that you’re coughing because of asthma, says, “Have you been to the doctor about that?” As if after being up all night struggling to breathe and thinking you might expire, it never occurred to you to consult a doctor.

In early fall of 2014, I was a former musician, a former music teacher, and for the previous seven years, the associate director of a law school center.

The sun was breaking through the morning mist as we pulled on our old sneakers, filled our backpacks with supplies, and headed to the bird sanctuary at Montrose Point, a few miles from where we live near Chicago’s Lake Shore Drive.

The relatively new Denver Art Museum is worth visiting for any number of reasons, but this phenomenal exhibit is worth the price of admission.

Have you ever dreamed of a perfect day? A day that despite politics or sadness in the world brings you some peace?

I know how lucky I am to be enjoying theater and opera, live music and dinner out with friends, travel, being with family, reading and writing.

In songs and stories, we heard from Muslim teenagers whose friends were killed and Jewish teenagers whose families survived being forced out of other countries.

I love this city — the lake, the culture, the people, the food. So far, we only got to two of the free Grant Park Wednesday night concerts this summer, but they were both magnificent.

Yesterday evening, we went over to Grant Park, and sat on the grass facing the gorgeous Frank Gehry Pritzker Pavilion for a Wednesday concert in the park.

Aside from being ageless and adorable, Lucy looks delicate, but on stage, she’s an engaging force.

I saw Champion a few nights ago at Lyric Opera of Chicago, and it deserves all the praise it has been receiving.

We’d planned to visit our niece and spend our days in Los Angeles treating her and her two sets of twins to some fun auntie/uncle time.