I recently read Dr. Nathaniel Chin’s new book, When Memory Fades: What to Expect at Every Stage, from Early Signs to Full Support for Alzheimer’s and Dementia. In my work as a ghostwriter, I’m all in on providing the best collaborative experience. The average age of my authors is eighty, so this book gave me insight into what some of them are going through, either themselves or with their friends and family.

In 1989, I graduated from college, moved to San Francisco, and landed an entry-level job in publishing. For a young woman who had just spent four years in the Midwest, San Francisco felt like utopia. It was diverse. It was beautiful. It was fun. And, hard as it may be to imagine today, it was affordable enough for a twenty-something just starting her career. I loved living there.

When I started The Memoir Writer three years ago, I was crystal clear on being the easy button for my clients. I recently came across another easy button, a useful repository for bits of your family history.

At age eighty-six, Janiece Simmons Nolan decided to create her autobiography, Sugar Doll’s Storied Life. What emerged was not only a family history, but a vivid portrait of Texas, science, family, ambition, and American life across nearly a century.

Jen didn’t text first to see if it was a good time to chat. She just picked up the phone and called. When I answered she said, “People don’t just call each other anymore. I wanted to call you.”  This made me so happy! We caught up without the stress of scheduling, and we even switched to FaceTime at one point so I could see her daughter.

Over the weekend I waged a full-out war with our garage. Into the trash went the last of my college journalism papers, three pairs of cleats so old that the laces had disintegrated, and several packages of Clorox wipes, now completely dried out.

I became a fan of Jon Meacham — the American historian and Pulitzer Prize–winning author — when he participated in a panel at the New Orleans Festival of Books a few years ago.

My sweet mother-in-law recently decided to downsize, and my husband and I helped her sort through her memorabilia and collectables.

Gratitude is common among the people I collaborate with.

That I only ate half of my berries and granola for breakfast elicited a query from my server on my satisfaction with it, and then a brief scowl that I wasted food. Being an adult means that I stop eating when I’ve had enough.

Memory is a funny thing. It’s diffused, ever-shifting and emotional.

Andy, aged 106, asked me if I was Jewish. I responded in the affirmative. He told me that he knew I was, even though we’d never talked about religion - his or mine. I found that and his interest in my religious beliefs curious.

I’ve just come back from Santa Barbara and the wedding of my niece, Sarah Conwisar, to Max Sonnenberg. It was a beautiful weekend with the extended family and friends celebrating the marriage of two people so perfectly suited for each other, and for the joining of two families.

Have you been in the light bulb aisle at Home Depot recently? It is overwhelming, like the cheese section in a French grocery store.

I came upon these painted rocks while walking recently near my parents’ home.

I didn’t plan to read Sarah Wynn-Williams’ memoir, Careless People. However, a friend recommended it and it was available immediately in Libby.

The sun has not yet come up in Kenya’s Maasai Mara National Reserve when we head out for our morning game drive.

Tim O’Brien authored The Things They Carried, a powerful piece of American fiction on the Vietnam War. My experience volunteering with Israeli Defense Forces soldiers in San Diego this week mirrored many of the things I felt when I first read O’Brien’s book: anxious, shocked, empathetic, motivated, and admiration to name a few.

For 15 years we owned a condo at Squaw Valley, now Palisades Tahoe. Our kids grew up hiking and playing in the lake in the summer, and skiing in the winter.

I am witness to sentimental bits and bobs of people’s lives.