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Tag Archives: Betsy Fitzgerald
Room Enough for Me
I read Virginia Woolf”s A Room of One’s Own years ago on a flight to San Francisco. I’m a fiercely fast writer and a seriously slow reader, so the slender volume of her extended essay on women and fiction was … Continue reading
Not Over Yet
Nestled in the saturated green of maples and birches and scrub sumac, a single scarlet leaf winked at me as I sipped my morning coffee. The long, slow days are slipping away. Nights fall to temperatures in the fifties. School buses lumber down … Continue reading
Scary Stories. Oh My.
Erica Ferencik asked if I’d read and blurb her novel. I said of course. And what’s it about? “A paranormal thriller about reincarnation and a mother who comes back as a viper.” Hmmm I have some favorite Stephen King novels but in general … Continue reading
Brakes for Rein’s Reubens
Do you ever drive the I-84 north-south corridor? Then you have to know about Rein’s Deli. No? I grew up just two towns over from this gem but it didn’t take on must-do status until I found myself regularly driving from New Haven … Continue reading
Not Fit to Print
I listen to WGBH and Morning Edition on my morning drives from Groton into work. I follow the New York Times and Boston Globe. I like to think that I am somewhat tuned in to what’s going on around me. … Continue reading
Time On My Side
Unpacked boxes lingered in a corner of my office/guest room from my move to Groton five years ago. This week, I decided the contents had aged sufficiently and that it was time to deal with them. Opening them took on the feel of an … Continue reading
A Sketch in Time
I discovered sketching a number of years ago on an ill-fated trip to the Dominican Republic. It was worthy of being a National Lampoon vacation sequel. From arriving at the wrong airport to finding that our “resort” flooded every afternoon during the … Continue reading
Deck the (July) Halls
This week I found myself at Olive Garden, that ubiquitous family style restaurant. I’m chalking it up to the ’11 blizzards. In Groton, we’d had a run of days topping out around 101 degrees. With only partial house air-conditioning–meaning one room … Continue reading
Very Short Love Story
If I were going to write a love story, I wouldn’t set it in the White Mountains. I wouldn’t want one person to have Alzheimer’s. And I wouldn’t let the Doberman die. I met Rob Epp and Jordan Lassoff, partners … Continue reading
Farming Fiction
I rarely read non-fiction, despite the fact that there are fabulous writers producing fascinating works. Though I began my professional life as a journalist, my feet have been firmly planted in fiction for years now. Note that I said “rarely.” This … Continue reading
