Writing is an important part of my creative process, from journal work to finished product.

Writing Samples:

I touched the pick-marked walls where stone had been scooped out by hand in the 1800s. The rock had been hauled up shafts and out the top, opening a natural spring.

From "Getaway/Midwest: Biking Wisconsin's Elroy-Sparta Trail" (Travel Writing)

Willem leaned toward the window and squinted. “Someone’s belaying down the face of that mountain.”

“In the dark?”

“He uses the light on the Swiss flag.”

“That swinging orange thing?”

From "Reflected Light: Novel Excerpt" (Fiction)

Freya became her baby;
diving into the wreck,
repairing it.

From "Ashes, Ashes Poetry Sequence" (Poetry)

If one seeks intimacy, looks closely, reds appear in spring long before greens.

From "Red, First: A Short Short Essay" (Essay)

I hunt through the stack of sailing photos on my office sofa and the pockets of my briefcase at least three times. Caught in the web of phlegm where each breath was arduous, she lifted her head to me, recognized my voice.

From "Keys: A Short Short Memoir" (Memoir)

That’s just like Pierre, Kobe said. He loved to hang out on the edge. This time the grader backed into the passenger side. She said it all matter-of-factly. Without bitterness. She couldn’t jump, she said. The back was piled too high with luggage. She was right next to the drop off. Pierre couldn’t see the guy backing up just as he tried to streak past. Kobe was silent for a while.

From "Renga: A Short Short Story" (Fiction)
The heart
finds comfort
in what
is buried
and rises,
Rose of Sharon.
From "Salt Heart" (Poetry)

Alone, I followed the trail through a boreal forest lowland on the left and the Big Bay Sand Spit on the right. I found myself slowing down to appreciate the red and white pines that lined the way. Their waxy evergreen needles retain water, as do the leaves of the bearberry and wintergreen below them.

From "Big Bay State Park, Madeline Island" (Travel Writing)

Laurence Jackson Hyman and Sarah Hyman Stewart, two of (Shirley) Jackson's four children, edited and introduced this collection subsequent to the mysterious receipt of "a carton of cobwebbed files discovered in a Vermont barn more than a quarter-century after our mother's death." Sounds like a plot turn in a Jackson story.

From "Just an Ordinary Day" (Book Reviews)

Logue wrote Halfway Home in response to her dying mother's request. Though her grandmother, Mae McNally Kirwin, had talked about writing the story of her life as the Chokio, Minn. postmaster and single mother of five, she left very little writing behind, as was so commonly the case of working mothers in the first half of this century.

From "Halfway Home: A Granddaughter's Biography" (Book Reviews)
Kate Hallett Dayton

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Kate Hallett Dayton

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