I’ve recently returned from 10 magical days in Italy, where I attended a writer’s conference called Sirenland. After Seasons of Sun was published in 2010, I began its prequel, a historical novel currently under production.  Along with incredibly talented writers and phenominal instructors, I spent much of my time in Positano, Italy workshopping this story.  In the end, as I sat looking at the sea, these were the words that came to me to sum up the experience. More on Vassara soon, but for now, and as I continue to write about Greece and its magic, what follows best describes what it feels like to write these stories:


I’m in a perpetual state of indulgence here in Positano, Italy.  All senses are intoxicated to their fullest.  The sun, the shore, the views, the mountain air, the  Proseco, the food, the talent, the instruction, the camaraderie, the determination to master a craft that first attracted itself to a fourteen year old girl. 

 I get a glimpse into understanding what I don’t understand here at Sirenland.

 I see my viewpoint has been as small as a keyhole, and now I look through to a world much larger.  Like Dorothy’s Oz, the door is cracked open to an array of enchanting colors, and never shall I return to the old black and white outdated version of myself, nor my craft.

 I set sail in my boat across the turquoise and indigo Mediterranean waters, shimmering in silver where at the other end of the horizon awaits a completed story.  The journey will be quite long, and full of unexpected challenges. But in the end, as I reach shore, I satisfactorily read the blessed words, “the end.”

 I am grateful for stepping into the scary unknown; given validation for the art that feeds my soul, and helps me discover the depths of myself.