When I think about our current mania for all things wellness-related, I think of clean, bright rooms: white, flowing linen. I think of granola with flaxseed oil washed down with a jug of coconut water. Yoga. Pilates. I think of a nation of exhausted people yearning for something clean and...

I chose not to be confirmed into the Catholic Church when I was 17, citing Kierkegaard's Fear and Trembling as proof for why, if I didn't come to faith on my own, there was nothing my mother or the Church could do about it. Now, at 34, it's difficult to...

It's strange to be at the beginning of a new book. It took me years to write my first, Yoga Bitch, and now that I'm embarking on a fresh first draft, I find I am a bit adrift. I'm about 20,000 words into my new book, and I gotta say:...

Christmas is the time for nineteenth century novels, especially of the English variety. Time to burrow under the eiderdown while the snow falls outside, while you wait for the servants with their charming, incomprehensible accents to bring you your tea. Time to sip that tea while you listen to the...

Maybe we're all a little tired of asking Facebook to tell us who we are. Aren't we? Shouldn't we be? Do we really gain personal insight from knowing which flavor of ice cream we are, or which Barbie Doll we would be . . . if we were a Barbie...

I am a hoarder of books. Since I was a young girl, I have read, collected, organized, dusted and admired row upon row of books. Plays, poetry, novels, non-fiction; I have loved my books like people are supposed to love their children. Tables, desks, windowsills, toilets, kitchen counters-- all serve...