Margaret M. Manchester Writes

Nonfiction Works

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  • The “Other” Margaret Manchester

    If you were to google my name, another woman named Margaret Manchester, a writer of historical romances, would be the first to appear. What are the odds? We have the same name, we were both academics before we turned to writing fiction—she lives in northern England, I live in New England. Ordinarily, this wouldn’t be…

  • Halloween and Roots

    Every year, our neighborhood in Rumford has a parade on Halloween. Friends and family from the neighborhood gather for the annual event. Everyone, including the dogs, are in costume. Some are quite extravagant; others are homemade—they’re really fun, especially the creative ones. A police car leads the walkers, and homes along the short parade route…

  • The Little Things We Take for Granted

    Some of you may recall that I posted earlier about living with chronic pain and the ways in which it can circumscribe your life, despite the accommodations you make. After exhausting every available conservative treatment—PT, aqua and massage therapy, spinal injections, a chiropractor, acupuncture, and a minimally invasive endoscopic foraminotomy—I had a multi-level spinal fusion…

  • White Cars

    I drove my sister-in-law for her radiation treatment last week. As we were making our way up to the Dana Farber Oncology and Radiation clinic, she remarked on the number of white cars on the road. She’s always been fascinated by that. Once she mentioned it, it was hard not to notice every time we…

  • Little Moments of the Sublime

    I used to team teach with two dear colleagues, Stephanie Boeninger, who teaches literature, and Licia Carlson, who teaches philosophy. I was the historian on the CIV team. Our class was part of a four-course sequence on the Development of Western Civilization that was a core requirement for all students at Providence College. Licia assigned…

  • The Drone of Air Conditioners

    Joni Mitchell released an article back in the 1970s entitled, “The Hissing of Summer Lawns.” I once heard an interview with Mitchell in which she said she was influenced by the sound of suburban lawns being watered. She blends in jazz elements that highlight her lyrical critique of the blandness of suburbs, especially the lives…

  • Chasing Ansel Adams

    I am a competent photographer, but I am not an artist although I am working on developing my artist’s eye. I try to convey the beauty or tell a story with my pix. This morning we floated down the Snake River. It was raining and much colder than the warm weather we had been enjoying…

  • Note to self

    We had planned to rendezvous-vous with our friends in West Yellowstone and discovered two very important caveats. Mileage is not just a number. We took the scenic route to West Yellowstone via the Bear Tooth Highway that winds from Cody,WY to Cooke City, MT to the Northeast entrance to the park. It is the highest…

  • “It’s like a desert with grass.”

    I have become obsessed with agriculture. Yesterday we drove more than 500 miles across southern Minnesota, a regional economy based on agriculture and ag related businesses. If you’ve never been on the Great Plains, it will be hard for you to imagine the fields of crops extending to the horizon, dotted occasionally by dairy farms…

  • What do cornfields, steel mills, and sand dunes have in common?

    We were slow getting started yesterday morning; but once we did, we drove for hours as we left Ohio and entered Indiana. Fields of corn and other grains stretched as far as the eye can see in both directions for miles and miles. It was a beautiful summer day and the large irrigation structures looked…