Posts from the ‘The Skinny’ Category Now Live!

Thanks in large part to your faith in this work, Peach Seed Monkey begins searching for our publisher, and I’m pulling back curtains to show my own backstory, and little known facts. has lots of new content, photos, audio/video and more.

A fellow writer and dear friend and I are heading to a mega literary conference next week: AWP: Portland (Association of Writers & Writing Programs) which means meeting lots of folk. Agents, publishers and editors will be checking my site and social media to see who is in my corner? Who is interested in buying this book? Now more than ever your show of support can make a difference:
• Sign up for updates (most important)
• Leave comments
• Get friends and family to join you

I know. Been a lot of talking the past seven years here on PSM. Soon enough, we can stop talking and sit down to READ THE BOOK!! Help us get there from here. is waiting for your visit: designed by the phenomenal CM McLaughlin

New Look—New Lease…

As of this Friday, The Ides of March*—I will be moving to a new site—Anita Gail Jones—in preparation for query process kick off at AWP conference in two weeks.

Always, thankful to you for following PSM. I cherish our visits inside the warm wood walls (alliteration couldn’t be helped), but WordPress has retired this theme and, even though this blog will still be around for a few months, it’s time to move on.

Look for your invite to visit/subscribe to — meantime, here’s a little OPEN HOUSE surprise just for PSM subscribers: preview screening of freshly cut video.

Feel free to share/invite friends to follow: agents, editors and publishers will be checking out how many people I have in my corner:

*Friday is also the birthday of faithful PSM subscriber, Vivian to whom I am forever grateful for support since the early, early drafts, including hosting a reading in her home. Happy Birthday, Vivian!

On the Move…

The Association of Writers & Writing Programs (AWP) Bookfair

Long time, no see!

Heading to Portland, Oregon later this month for the AWP Conference, but first, let me tell you this, which you won’t believe:

For over two months, I’ve been immersed in a mind-numbing, tedious but extremely rewarding pass back through my manuscript to rein in my overuse of “the”.  Yep. What can I say. Had to do it. According to The Pirate’s Alley Faulkner Society, “the” is overused more than any other English language word*—and I believe it after seeing how many times I had overused it myself.

Read more…

Women’s March San Francisco ~ January 19, 2019

Once again, joining millions of women world wide, on Saturday,  January 19, 2019, Women’s March San Francisco will host a rally and march, kicking off at San Francisco’s Civic Center Plaza at 11:30 a.m. with a lineup of speakers who advocate and organize on and around topics central to the Women’s March mission to work on behalf of human rights, civil liberties and social justice for all.

“Last year’s march focused on a theme of #HearOurVote, and we are now coming off a momentous midterm, where a more representative body of leadership has taken seat at the local and national levels. This year, we know the work is not done,”
— Sophia Andary, chair of Women’s March San Francisco.

For more details and logistics

This year’s speakers are advocates and leaders in their communities and fields. They’ll be covering a wide array of issues including anti-semitism, immigration, indigenous peoples rights, LGBTQIA rights and representation, reproductive rights, and socioeconomic and social justice.

See the slate of speakers and performers

For anyone coming in from another city please consider using Rally Bus, the statewide partner to the Women’s March California chapters.

View detailed logistics about the day of the march and learn about the rally speakers

Learn more via Facebook, Eventbrite, Meetup or follow the event on Twitter.


Women’s March, Washington, DC

Wishing You a Joyous Winter Solstice…

~ May 2019 bring us all closer to the good side of humanity ~

A Special Thanks to Cheryl McLaughlin

Well over a decade ago, I met the multi-faceted Cheryl McLaughlin at a Left Coast Writers meeting held at Book Passage in Corte Madera, CA. Not long after I took a workshop from her on creating an online presence as a writer. (It’s crucial to know when to seek out professional help!) This was a two-day workshop and at the end of Day 1, Cheryl gave us homework: have some fun creating a “sandbox blog”. In other words, just play around with it. Nothing serious. Best assignment ever! Cheryl McLaughlin has always been a pioneer. Born on a ranch in central Montana and raised by a gold-mining/journalist/writer grandmother, she learned she could do anything. It didn’t matter that she was a girl.  Read more…

My Sidewalk Friend


Monday, November 26, 2018: Earlier this morning on my walk, I run into an elder woman I’ve seen twice before, her skin is the color of perfectly browned drop biscuit peaks, and her face is mapped with lines that tell the story of her life to anyone willing to stop and silently listen, read.

Each time, our paths cross in roughly the same spot, in front of a newly planned community a five minute walk from my house. Every time we meet, she has stepped down off the sidewalk to give deference to me. Me! Lowly whippersnapper by comparison and yet. The second time I stopped and chatted, she has virtually no English but I learned she’s from India. This morning, same thing:  as we approach each other she steps down into the street fingering her prayer beads, her thick-soled sneakers and cable knit sweater an anachronism against the long black dress and striped apron she wears.

I stop again. Clasp my hands together as if in prayer and bow my head to her. She does the same. And then I step aside gesturing to her with both hands toward the sidewalk. She hesitates, her smile widening before she steps up onto the sidewalk, still fingering her beads, and walks on.

What is the prayer she utters walking down this suburban street in Northern California?  Who is her family? Maybe a son or daughter bought one of the developer houses and moved her from her home in India? Does she have grands who don’t really understand grandma but are being taught to respect her and her deeply ensconced ways. The ones that caused her involuntary muscles to guide or down off the sidewalk when anyone else passes.

I walk on, not surprised by the tears in my throat which moved me to share this with you.

Oddly enough,
a few minutes later, after spending the rest of my walk dictating this text, our paths cross again—and again in front of the developer houses.  And this time I step down before she can. She smiles, steps down, too, so we briefly have dueling deference until she finally steps back up. I join her and we pantomime another conversation. She says again “India”  and “no English” . I point to her prayer beads, indicating how beautiful they are. With their hands clasped she points up to the sky. Then she taps her knee and I tap my knee and we agree that walking is good for us. We part ways.

This time I don’t have tears stuck in my throat only a small prayer that I could speak her language/dialect so that next time we could actually chat.

%d bloggers like this: