Today, when I signed my name to a document, the woman witnessing it – thirty something, attractive, and rising up the ranks of her career – asked, “Are you the author of the Luvender trilogy?” I nodded and agreed. Under my June Considine name I’v written many books for children but as she specifically mentioned the Luvenders, my first book, I knew that when she had read them she was probably about ten years of age. This is just another terrifying indicator that Time is driv

Just settling down to work on my new book – and it feels like ground hog day …again. I keep reading about the discipline needed to work from home and it’s sooooo true. There’s something about closing one door and opening another – leaving one environment for a different one – breaking the morning with a journey from house to work that has to change your mindset. At home it’s different – and that’s where the discipline sets in. For me, today, yesterday and, hopefully, tomorrow

I visited my mother today. I brought flowers and touched her cheek. She is now younger than me by almost twenty years – her forever-young face smiling from an oval photograph, the image as fresh as the day it was placed on her grave stone. The cemetery was full of people like myself who were there to pay tribute to their mothers ― and the purple wrappings of a thousand bouquets fluttered like the wings of exotic birds, blown off course on the cold, bitter wind. Earlier, I had

I’m back now, tucked once again into suburbia. My windows are wide and long, and rooftops stretch as far as my eyes are prepared to see. This is my familiar patch and, usually, when I return home it does not take long to settle back into familiar rhythms. This time it’s more difficult. For ten days I stared out from small windows set deep in stone. I walked a rugged path where rocks leered like gargoyles and the wild roll of the Atlantic sprayed the air. I heaved bags of turf