Year of the Fire Horse

Happy Chinese New Year!

Today, February 17th, is the start of the Year of the Fire Horse. Across Asia and around the world, millions of people are welcoming in the Lunar New Year, a celebration marking not only the new calendar year but a time of renewal, reunion and hope.

Fire Horse years are associated with bold action, impulsivity and breakthroughs, and it favors those who are courageous, independent and take decisive action.

Horses have symbolized strength, endurance and freedom for centuries. Chinese legends tell stories of ‘thousand-mile horses’ used by emperors and believed to be so powerful they could travel vast distances in a single day. In books and movies, mythical horses sometimes possess the ability to speak or to travel down to the underworld or up to heaven, and mounting a horse is often seen as the starting point for adventure.

There are many novels and non-fiction books featuring horses. So many, in fact, that it’s hard to pick and choose when it comes to assembling a list. But for those who are looking, here are a few books – both classic and contemporary tales – to consider:

Misty of Chincoteague by Marguerite Henry

Black Beauty by Anna Sewell

National Velvet by Enid Bagnold

War Horse by Michael Morpurgo

Seabiscuit by Laura Hillenbrand

Chosen by a Horse by Susan Richards

The Horse Whisperer by Nicholas Evans

                   Living Large

“There is no passion to be found in playing small – in settling for a life that is less than the one you are capable of living.” Nelson Mandela

It was on this date in 1990 that Nelson Mandela was released from a South African prison after serving 27 years for anti-apartheid activism. Mandela dedicated his life to dismantling racism, going from being the world’s most famous political prisoner to becoming South Africa’s first Black president. He also convened the world’s first Truth and Reconciliation Commission.

His struggle not only changed the course of South Africa but it set an example for millions of people around the world. The most obvious lesson we can take from him is about the importance of standing up for equality and human rights, a lesson that feels particularly relevant these days. But there are other lessons Mandela talked about after he was released from prison and had more time to reflect.

In The Long Walk to Freedom, Mandela shared his belief that discipline and patience are everything. “Running taught me valuable lessons,” he wrote. “In cross-country competition, training counted more than intrinsic ability, and I could compensate for a lack of natural aptitude with diligence and discipline. I applied this in everything I did. Even as a student, I saw many young men who had great natural ability, but who did not have the self-discipline and patience to build on their endowment.”

In the same book, Mandela talked about the importance of commitment and never giving up. “Failure is only found in giving up,” he wrote. “I never lose. I either win or learn.” Mistakes, he said, were part of that process. “Do not judge me by my successes, judge me by how many times I fell down and got back up again.”

And, finally, Mandela stressed the importance of being optimistic even in the face of challenges. “I am fundamentally an optimist,” he said. “Part of being optimistic is keeping one’s head pointed toward the sun, one’s feet moving forward. There were many dark moments when my faith in humanity was sorely tested, but I would not and could not give myself up to despair. That way lays defeat and death.”

Some wise life lessons for all of us whether we’re out in the world fighting for justice and racial equality or sitting alone in a quiet studio creating art.

My January Reads

One of the nice things about winter is that the birds are easier to spot. Without the camouflage of leaves on the deciduous trees, they really stand out. It’s been restful watching them go about their day – hunting worms and insects, eating winter berries, and then drinking from the pond before they flutter off to perch in a nearby tree. Since I kicked off the new year with a bad respiratory flu, I had a lot of time to stare out the window. In fact, for most of a week my concentration was so poor that I didn’t even feel like reading. Thank goodness that didn’t last long.

I read 53 books in 2025, about a book a week, which is roughly what I read in 2024 too. I’m not sure if this is a new normal for me or a bit of an aberration because it used to be that I’d easily read two books a week. I’ll be tracking my reading again this year and aiming to nudge that annual number back up a bit. Meanwhile, here’s what I’m reading this month.

Letters From Japan by Marie Kondo

Shadows in the Moonlight by Santa Montefiore

The Art of Simple Food by Alice Waters

Books read to date in 2026: 5

My August Reads

                                      


I think of August like this picture – sunny days at the beach with few commitments, morning beach strolls and afternoons spent lounging on the sand with a book in hand. When our kids were young, that picture was fairly accurate, at least for the few weeks we camped at the beach. These days I’m lucky enough to live within walking distance of the shoreline, but while I get down there for walks (and picnic dinners!) fairly often, I rarely take my book with me. I’m hoping to change that later this week when the weather improves. It’s been rainy and cooler the last few days, a relief with the nearby forest fires. But sunshine is in the forecast and a beach day is on my calendar. Here’s what I’m reading this month.

Undo It by Dean Ornish

Spain: A Lonely Planet Guide

Advika and the Hollywood Wives by Kirthana Ramisetti

Books read to date in 2025: 40

My July Reads

Summer is in full swing and that means less time at my desk and more time for fun. We’ve been doing day trips out of town, meeting friends for picnic dinners on the beach, and harvesting masses of raspberries and vegetables from the garden. At the end of the day, once watering is complete and the slugs have been beaten back, we sit on the patio and stargaze. We’re lucky enough to be surrounded by greenspace and on a clear night, if we turn out the patio lights, the stars are particularly vivid. Stargazing doesn’t always leave me much time for reading, but I am dipping into a few books now and then. Here’s what I’m reading this month.

When Breath Becomes Air by Paul Kalanithi

The Spanish Promise by Karen Swan

A Calamity of Souls by David Baldacci

Books read to date in 2025: 36

Plot Twist

 As I started weeding the blueberry bed in May, I was only vaguely aware of the sounds around me, including a rather noisy bird warbling from the nearby honeysuckle arbor. I’d set aside an hour to tackle a job that had been put off far too long and, intent on the task at hand, I didn’t pay much attention.

The blueberries share their bed with mint. We didn’t plant it; it was here when we bought this place. Knowing how invasive it can be, Mr. Petrol Head wanted to rip it all out. But I love mint and use a lot of it during the summer, so I convinced him to leave it. In return, I agreed to weed the blueberry bed VERY early every spring while reducing the mint runners and making sure the roots of the blueberry shrubs had the space they deserved.

Early spring came and went. By the time May rolled around and I was on my hands and knees aggressively pulling the weeds, I was powered by guilt.  That’s probably why it didn’t register that the sound from the honeysuckle arbor had gone from a gentle warbling to something closer to the sound of a screeching cat. It was only after viciously yanking on a particularly noxious clump of weeds that I finally clued in. Because on the ground in front of me, literally inches away, was a small nest with four tiny white eggs. The screeching I now couldn’t avoid hearing came from a Spotted Towhee warning me away from her nest.

I hadn’t expected to encounter a nest while weeding. I didn’t even know Spotted Towhees nested on the ground but they do, and clearly our weedy blueberry bed provided just the right amount of shelter for mama bird. Needless to say, that particular part of the garden wasn’t weeded or watered for weeks while we waited for the eggs to hatch and the babies to fledge.

Though I was initially charmed by the sight of the nest, within minutes I began mentally chastising myself for not getting to the task sooner. Now the weeds had more time to establish themselves. The blueberry harvest might be diminished due to lack of water. And the bed, which looked messy and neglected, was also highly visible to the visitors who were arriving to stay in just a few days. It wasn’t the outcome I’d expected.

It was a plot twist in the garden.

When it comes to books, who doesn’t love a well-executed plot twist? One that takes you by surprise and turns a story on its head. One you didn’t see coming but in retrospect, seems inevitable. Plot twists, in fiction and in life, aren’t always positive or happy events. The unexpected can bring joy or despair. However, it’s often plot twists that make life (and stories) more interesting and memorable.

 That certainly was the case in our garden. The nest was unexpected. Waiting for the babies to appear brought us a lot of joy. And once they did materialize, it was interesting to watch them hop about before they learned to fly.

 We may not harvest as many blueberries this year. The garden was definitely messier than I would have liked in spring too. But as plot twists go, this one was happy and life-affirming. It made for a memorable start to our gardening season. It was also a good reminder for me to start weeding the blueberry bed little earlier next year. And to save a spot somewhere else in the garden for unexpected plot twists!

My June Reads

Summer officially arrives this Friday, though we’ve been in summer mode around here for weeks. We had one round of house guests at the beginning of June and we’re expecting two more groups at the end of the month.  It’s busy! Thankfully, the weather has warmed so we can have dinners on the patio and enjoy the sight (and scent!) of the climbing roses. In spite of the holiday vibes, I am getting some writing done, but my attention to the business side of things, including this blog, will probably be a little sporadic over the next few months. And that’s okay. We all need time to kick back, just like we all need time to read a good book.  Here’s what I’m reading this month.

The Borrowed Life of Frederick Fife by Anna Johnston

How We Learn to be Brave by Mariann Edgar Budde

Watch Out for Her by Samantha Bailey

Books read to date in 2025: 32

Book Buzz

                                          

 Today is World Bee Day. Established in 2018 by the United Nations, the purpose of the declaration is to acknowledge the importance of bees and what they do for our environment. Did you know, for instance, that bees help grow 90% of the world’s wildflower plants or that 35% of the world’s crops depend on bees to grow? Along with contributing to food security, bees are key to conserving biodiversity.

Bees have been around forever. The first bee discovered, which is preserved in amber, dates back 100 million years. That discovery played a significant role in helping scientists understand the relationship between bees and the evolution of flowering plants and our very ecosystem.

Unfortunately, bees are under continuous threat from invasive insects, pesticides, changes in land-use, and the practice of monocropping, which destroys bee colonies. So, anything we can do to sustain them (and other pollinators like bats, hummingbirds and butterflies) helps all of us.

Here are just a few simple things you can do to help the bees:

  • Plant a diverse set of native plants, ones which flower at different times of the year;
  • Buy raw honey from local farmers;
  • Buy products from sustainable agricultural practices;
  • Avoid using pesticides, fungicides or herbicides in the garden;
  • Protect wild bee colonies when possible;
  • Sponsor a hive;
  • Make a bee water fountain by leaving a water bowl outside.

And once you’ve done any or all of those things, reward yourself by reading a book where bees feature prominently. There are many! Here are just a few to consider.

The Secret Life of Bees by Sue Monk Kidd. This coming-of-age novel about loss, betrayal and the interracial civil-rights landscape of the 1960s American south is considered a modern classic.

The Murmur of Bees by Sofia Segovia (translated by Simon Bruni) Set against the backdrop of the Mexican Revolution and the devastating influenza of 1918, The Murmur of Bees captures both the fate of a country in flux and the destiny of one family that has put their love, faith, and future in the unbelievable.

The Last Beekeeper by Julie Carrick Dalton. The disappearance of the world’s bees, along with the other pollinating insects, in an ecological disaster dubbed the Great Collapse provides the backdrop for this moving post-apocalyptic thriller.

The History of Bees by Maja Lunde. This novel follows three generations of beekeepers from the past, present, and future, and tells the story of their relationship to the bees – and to their children and to one another – against the backdrop of an urgent, global crisis.

The Music of Bees by Eileen Garvin.  A heartwarming novel about three lonely strangers who are brought together by happenstance on a local honeybee farm where they find surprising friendship, healing – and maybe even a second chance – just when they least expect it.

Pre-teen and teen readers might enjoy The Summer We Saved the Bees by Robin Stevenson. Wolf’s mother is obsessed with saving the world’s honeybees, so it’s not too surprising when she announces that she’s taking her Save the Bees show on the road—with the whole family. Wolf thinks it’s a terrible plan, partly because he’ll have to wear a bee costume in public.

And for picture book readers consider The Beeman by Laurie Krebs and Valeria Cis. With rhyming text and warm, expressive paintings, this picture book takes the reader through a year of beekeeping from the point of view of a little girl helping her beloved grandpa, who’s known in town as the Beeman.

My May Reads

The weeds are growing and so is my ‘to do’ list. I’d rather stare out the window at my blooming rhododendron and contemplate beauty, but, alas, spring leaves little time for contemplation. There’s not much time for reading these days either, though I always manage a little time before bed. Here’s what I’m reading this month.

Here One Moment by Liane Moriarty

The Traitor’s Daughter by Roxana Spicer

The Invisible Life of Addie LaRue by V. E. Schwab

Books read to date in 2025: 29

Diversity in Art

                                                 

Diversity is a hot topic these days. The word has become somewhat polarizing, particularly when it’s used to reference people from different social and ethnic backgrounds, or those of specific genders and sexual orientation. But in that context, when paired with inclusion and acceptance, diversity becomes something to fight for and something to celebrate.

Nature depends on diversity for its very survival. Without a wide range of animals, plants and microorganisms, we would not have the healthy ecosystem we need to survive. Diversity, at its core, maintains life.

In its truest sense, the word diversity means variety. I like to think I favor variety, yet humans are hardwired to favor predictability, and I’m as human as you are. This morning, for instance, I had a predictable spring breakfast: a protein smoothie and some fruit. As I ate, I stared out the window at my empty garden pots. I found myself thinking about using the same annuals and fillers I used last year, the same pretty trailers. I have to remind myself to pivot and try something new.

Predictability is comfortable and familiar. It creates a sense of security, something businesses favor. The recent wild swings in the financial markets show just how stressful and potentially lifechanging unpredictability can be. Publishers, like most businesses, also thrive on predictability, something I learned early on in my career.

I didn’t stick to writing for one specific age group or in any particular genre. I wrote fiction and non-fiction, picture books and novels, historical and contemporary fiction; I even wrote a few short novels with a paranormal theme. Publishers and agents weren’t amused. They suggested I should ‘stick to one lane’ and develop my presence for a specific audience and in one genre. Diversification, I was told, just confuses readers. Predictability makes it easier to build a brand. Strong branding makes it easier to sell more books and make more money, which publishers love. And let’s be honest, authors like making money too!

There are authors who write in a variety of styes, but it’s not always an easy transition. Margaret Atwood was famously afraid of making the jump from literary fiction to genre fiction, but lucky for us, she did.  Other authors like Stephen King, Norah Roberts, Anne Rice and Dean Koontz rely on pseudonyms when they write in different genres. That makes publishers happy and avoids confusion for readers. 

I suppose it’s no surprise that diversity sometimes comes under fire and we humans tend to favor the status quo. Yet in the same way that nature hinges on diversity, I believe diversity can also infuse and flavor any creative practice, and not only for authors.

Leonardo Da Vinci is the classic example of someone who dedicated his life to a variety of art forms. John Lennon, Joni Mitchell, Eric Clapton and Lady Gaga all went to art school. Rapper Tupac studied acting, poetry, jazz, and ballet at the Baltimore School of The Arts. Australian musician Nick Cave writes screenplays and novels and so does singer/songwriter Amanda Palmer. Actor Jemima Kirke from the HBO’s series “Girls” is also a talented painter. Juliette Binoche works as, dancer, poet, and painter too. Antonio Banderas composes music and writes poetry.  Actor James Franco paints, draws, sculpts and is a skilled photographer.

I’ll probably never take up sculpting or pick up a paint brush, and I’ll certainly never become an actor, but the idea of trying a new art form or writing in a different genre is a way of adding a spark of life to our art. As biologist Sir John Sulston said, “What is the purpose of being human and alive without doing and trying new things?”

At the very least, I can certainly switch up my breakfast tomorrow. Falafel, anyone?