I’ve been struggling unsuccessfully to update this home page for weeks, and I think it comes down to this: until two years ago, I knew, as a writer, exactly who, what and where I was: a middle-aged literary novelist who set her work and lived her life in the Pacific Northwest. It was where I'd been for the better part of 25 years. But life likes its little surprises, so in 2011 we moved to Saint Paul, Minnesota.

And here's what's stumping me: am I now a Minnesota writer? Or am I an ex-pat who, by way of her writing, still returns to the Northwest every day on a sort of open-ended leave of absence?

I'm worrying about this now because my fifth
novel, Friday’s Harbor, a sequel to Hannah’s
Dream, has been released--my first as a
Minnesota resident. As a writer, could I even
pass as a Minnesotan, or would the
Minnesotan to whom I'm extending my hand
roll his or her eyes and say, "Oh, please."

But no. No Minnesotan would ever be so
indelicate as to suggest I don't belong
amongst them. And that's why, at the risk of
jeopardizing my Northwest status, I find,
more and more, that I love it here.