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I used to think that writers existed on burnt coffee, stale chips, and moldy candy bars. The long-suffering writer routine wasn’t my cup of tea, but I liked the visual. During my first years living in Boston, I rarely ate at home. Instead, I frequented seafood restaurants for lobster rolls, broiled scallops, and baked stuffed shrimp with melted butter. I dined on escargot and coq au vin at DuBarry’s, prime rib at Durgin-Park, and lived for The European Restaurant’s veal parm

Hot. So. Darn. Hot. I’ve never been a fan of the dog days of summer, so I am very grateful that Nick installed our air conditioners before I seriously began to melt. But there’s one thing that’s really driving me crazy: I’m having a serious banana and coconut craving! Ever since the temperature crept up to 90 degrees last month, I’ve been on the lookout for that lovely banana/coconut aroma that seems to only be found on suntanning bodies at beaches farther away than ou

There was an old radio program back in the ’30s called The Shadow , introduced by these words: “Who knows what evil lurks in the hearts of men? The Shadow knows!" The first time I learned I have a Shadow Self I wanted to run back into my little hole and hide because I was afraid of the truth. I didn’t want anyone to discover that I actually had a dark side. Because didn’t that make me an evil, wicked person, deserving of cruel and extreme punishment? Once I worked for a w