Welcome!

... to the go-to location for details and updates about my upcoming memoir, BOOTSTRAP: A MONTANA ORPHAN'S RISE IN SILICON VALLEY.

In this issue

April is the time of year for growing, rebirthing, keeping, or shedding. With this in mind, I selected these pieces to share.

• A Girl Named Sue is a short essay about embracing your weakness as a source of strength.
• Sonora Poetry & Prose Crawl on June 5, 2026 will feature A Girl Named Sue and a reading of BOOTSTRAP'S Prologue - FREE EVENT.
• April Bud Break is about a special time of year in our Sierra Foothills vineyard when rebirth initiates the next winemaking season.

Bootstrap Update

BOOTSTRAP is still waiting to undergo line edits and creative work by Roan & Weatherford Publishing. They're working on the summer cohort now. The fall cohort is next. I'm told that a four month wait for line editing is typical. We got in the queue about that many months ago. I'll let you know when they've started the process. If all goes well, I'll have advanced reader copies (ARCs) this summer. I'm not going to lie, the wait is killing me. In the meantime, I continue to write.

With a humble nod, the seasoned cowboy backs his horse off the trail, giving us hikers the right of way. Deep wrinkles define his weather-worn face. His blue eyes reflect the rays of an afternoon sun. Johnny Cash’s Burning Ring of Fire blares from the portable speaker attached to his saddle. Western meadowlarks and stunted oaks surround us. Like a scene from my childhood in Montana the state bird sings backup for the man in black.

Back in 1967 when my mother was first widowed, she stayed in her bedroom for days, consuming only toast and coffee. At eight-years-old, I knew our lives had changed forever. Months passed and Mom went back to work teaching school. But I missed my father more each passing day. He had been my daily light, listening to my prayers before bedtime, taking care of me after school in his television and stereo repair shop, treating me like his business partner. 

One day Mom came home with a square, thin package. She walked to the one record player we had left from Dad’s shop, opened the bag, and lovingly slid out a vinyl album, Johnny Cash’s A Boy Named Sue. We sang along. I felt the pain from losing my father lighten. Johnny was right. Strength comes from embracing your label whether it’s Sue or Fatherless Daughter. 

And now, on the trail, I turn to see the cowboy disappear around a bend, carrying my laden past. In his dust, the exquisite beauty of nostalgia. 



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You can listen to a recording of me reading A Girl Named Sue by clicking here. If you want to hear it read in-person, please come to Sonora on June 5th (details follow).

Something amazing is happening in vineyards across California’s Calaveras County right now. After six months of dormancy, green foliage is creeping from nubs and limbs of gray, dead-looking grapevines. Not since harvest last September has the fruit shown any interest in returning. But now in April, their sudden determination to escape their confines is unstoppable.

Within moments of defruiting them last fall, the grapevines drooped downwards like they were ready for retirement. But really, they were preparing for another growth period, only six months later.

Grapevines are not the only living things to retreat from winter, some mammals such as bats, squirrels, and bears hibernate. Insects can pause development between autumn and spring, and deciduous trees lose their leaves in fall, allowing then to conserve water and endure harsh conditions.

Sooner or later, everyone needs a pause before new growth.

After the harvest and grape crush that eventually produced our Italian blend wine, winter rains rehydrated the earth at the base of the vines. We fertilized the ground too. Then the sun transformed these efforts into spring bud break.

Zoom in on the green bunches to view the flowers of the vine. They almost look like tiny green grapes already. As with all fruit, these flowers transform into an edible, or drinkable, bursts of goodness.