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Have you noticed that the more famous the performer, the bigger their hairstyle becomes? Love Dolly Parton, the queen of big.  www.bellasugar.com Or maybe that was true only in the eighties, the decade where men's hair was as big as women's.  Jon Bon Jovi www.coolmenshair.com   Or maybe not. www.radaronline.com        I remember seeing a woman at a basketball tournament years

I sat in the rocking chair holding my baby boy. I tried to burn into my memory how it felt to hold him, to imprint on my mind every line on his peaceful little face and tiny hands, and the funny expressions he made while sleeping. Everyone told me he would grow up all too fast, so I was determined to treasure each moment. I turned around and he was going to school. He was so proud of his

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My birthday came and went with nothing more than a blip of a thought yesterday. That's pretty much how I've handled birthdays most of my life-- I treat them much like any other day. Focusing on them reminds me how old I'm getting. It wasn't too many years ago that I thought this number at which I have arrived was lived with one foot in the grave. I guess I'm not dealing too well with old age. I

I headed to London when baby August was a week old, so my daughter was thoughtful enough to send me a picture every day so I wouldn't miss anything. ...like watching him sleep...     ...a lot ...which is what Nonnas and Mimis and love to do ...in any position ...in any outfit ...fawning over any facial expression ...convincing ourselves it

Just wanted to post a few photos of the reason my son was in London. And I have to say that getting to hang out with him during his off time and not having to share him with half of Texas was my favorite thing about this trip. : ) Thanks, sweetheart, for putting up with us. I'll never forget this trip. *  *  *  *  *

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We arrived at Heathrow Airport at 9:05 a.m. Monday morning, August 6, 2012. After we picked up our packed-too-much luggage, we exchanged our currency, receiving 1 pound for every $1.79 dollars - ouch. We caught a shuttle train to take us to another train called the Heathrow Express; both looked suspiciously like the subway trains known as The Tube. The Heathrow Express ran nonstop to Paddington

This is me standing beside the Heath in Hampstead, England. It's hard to believe I was actually there! My son Van, some generous friends, and the grace of God were the reasons I went to London this year. I had ordered my Passport back in 2005 when Van lived in Damascus, Syria, thinking I would visit him there, but I chickened out. He was chosen to work the 2012 Summer Olympics 

It's been four months since my last blog. I've decided that I can write novels, or I can blog-- I'm not very good at doing both at the same time. And I've not only fallen off the wagon this summer, I've been wallowing around on the ground having a major stress-fest. Before the end of the school year our district cut half the librarians (4 of 8) based on longevity, and I was number 4. We lost

The mother was crying and screaming at me in the principal’s office. I had taken the woman's son to the office earlier for beating up on another student during my class. Thirty students witnessed the incident, but the mother still accused me of being racist and picking on her son. The fourteen-year-old sixth grader stood there smiling behind his mother, confident that she would fix things. And

I’ve taught in a private school, a public school, and I’ve home-schooled, each of which has its advantages and drawbacks. But I’ve learned something valuable in each of those learning environments. I remember feeling almost overwhelmed when I stepped off the cliff and decided to homeschool my two elementary-aged children in a time when homeschooling was almost unheard of. Only radical, crazy

I'm waiting on the last proof, but this is what the book jacket will look like. I'm so excited to have received permission from the Galveston Historical Foundation to use the panoramic photo that stretches across the bottom of the entire front and back cover. It was taken from the top of Gresham House  facing east-southeast along Broadway Street after the devastating storm on September 8, 1900.

I sent The Last Key manuscript to my wonderful proofreader at 3:30 a.m. one morning last week. My old dog Daisy, almost seventeen years old and blind, deaf, and a bit senile, usually gets me up two or three times a night to do her business (her appetite and digestive tract are working overtime, doggone it), so at 1:15 I decided to finish proofing the last thirty pages or so. Then CJ goes over the

For the four of you who occasionally follow this sporadic blog, I'm dividing it into three blogs: Donna Van Cleve - the blog connected to my Web site that will be related to my books and writing in general. I may put in my two cents about anything here, but the focus will be on writing: http://blog.donnavancleve.com/ Shelf Mouse - will have library-related entries from now on. I'll start with