by Jane Pryce | Dec 12, 2025 | Creative Writing, garden tea parties, Poem, Publishing, writing prompts
This has been a hectic year. My second memoir, Untethered, was published on July 17th—my grandmother’s (Mummy’s) birthday. I hosted six teas in the garden and raised over $2,500 for Bellingham at Home. A big thank you to everyone who attended. I also had a book event... 
by Jane Pryce | Nov 8, 2025 | Creative Writing, gardens, Poem, Uncategorized, Writing Exercises
I arrived in the United Kingdom on the 31st October from Seattle, a long flight—a relatively comfortable seat, a pillow and a blanket, and a pretty good chicken dinner, but still exhausting. Some hours later, in a rental car—driving on the left side of the road can be... 
by Jane Pryce | Apr 29, 2025 | Creative Writing, other authors, Poem, Publishing
IN THE GARDEN I wake in the morning to stiff, overworked fingers refusing to bend, my lower back achy with tight muscles, and puffy eyes from pollen. I slide into a dressing robe, make and drink my tea, and enter a hot shower. I wash the pain away, and emerge clean,... 
by Jane Pryce | Apr 15, 2025 | books, Creative Writing, Poem, Publishing, Writing Exercises, writing prompts
Today was a beautiful, warm spring day. Henry and I took an early morning walk to the beach—no coats necessary. On the way, I dropped off the little free magazine Corridor at various spots. Later, I picked up the final piece of my edited work and visited some friends.... 
by Jane Pryce | Apr 10, 2025 | books, Creative Writing, Poem, Publishing
When I last wrote my blog, at the beginning of February, I wrote that it was snowing. It was our only snow for the winter, and while I was happy about that, it has rained an awful lot since then, and Henry, my dog, hates to walk in the rain! Today, I have been forced... 
by Jane Pryce | Feb 5, 2025 | books, Creative Writing, other authors, Poem
The white world of winter has descended. It is pretty in the garden. But when I walk Henry outside, even with the sun shining, my eyes water, my glasses fog up, my lips go numb, and my nose is so cold I can hardly blow it! Still, Henry enjoys himself, and the...