Time to begin again.
It’s been ten days since I arrived at my brother’s place in the wooded foothills of western Maine.
Two weeks since I left Amsterdam for my now annual summer retreat.
Four months since I posted a piece on this blog recapping last year.
Twenty-nine years since I fled New York City for Europe.
Twenty-nine years ago to the day, in fact.
Photo: Frits de Ridder, 1986
In September 1986 I died of AIDS. That’s me – center in the photo – playing one last game of Scrabble. An hour later, handsome Tony in the white shirt died in the arms of Steve, who left the hospice soon after to spend his final days with his family. I passed quietly, offstage. Five nights a week, above a gay bar in Amsterdam.
Life in Newcastle and beyond...
A writers experience
Dealing with the Stupids
For Minorities Who Don't Even Fit Into Our Own Minorities
Words for Women who Love Women
Suspense and murder with a light peppering of romance and humour
Escaping reality one book at a time
Author of Sentinel Species and Editor of As It Ought To Be Magazine
#BookBlogger
Reviews and ramblings from my pages...
A space to share book reviews and other book related treats
"That's what she read."
ON WRITERS AND WRITING
Sharing the book love since October 2015
Musings about books and a blog journal
In which our heroine attempts to tame the to-read pile
David Swatling 