Author Archives: Lesa Cline-Ransome

About Lesa Cline-Ransome

Children's book writer, reader, mother of 4, partner to one, dog lover, nester, walker, runner, truthful optimist, answer seeker, listener, negotiator, Boston girl, music maker, party starter, party ender, political, foodie, explorer, winter lover, fast talker, fighter, woman's woman

Thanks for the Memories

I live in the past.  I am a keeper of mementos, a one woman storage facility of memories.  I often tease my siblings that should I die, they would have no recollection at all of our childhood.  Like a parlor … Continue reading

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Love Thy Neighbor

When  my family were asked to appear on the cover of a recent local publication, my kids were stumped. “Why would anyone want to feature us on a cover?” they each asked. “Probably because we are a writer and illustrator couple,” … Continue reading

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The End is Near

 No, this is not the prelude to a political rant about how the current administration is sending us on a collision course with disaster.  But this is a blog about my beginnings with The End.  As in The End of … Continue reading

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Nothing to Fear

I’ve always been afraid of the dark. For as long as I can remember, I slept with a night-light. As a teenager, after seeing the movie The Exorcist, I crawled into bed with my parents for one week. Many of my fears are of … Continue reading

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The Root of the Story

In 1922, Edward Marshall Howard, a young man from Charlottesville, Virginia, left his home and travelled 150 miles to attend Hampton Institute, a college in Hampton, Virginia. Born in 1900, Edward was the son of Marshall, a chauffeur, and Lula, … Continue reading

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Me, Myself and I

I’ve never been a fan of New Year’s resolutions.   They’ve always felt to me like daily reminders of my lack of discipline and perseverance. So when my daughter asked on January 1st what my New Year’s resolution was, I gave … Continue reading

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Soul Sisters

The scars of childhood are ones that remain deeply burrowed in our psyches. Sharing a room with my older sister Linda is one of those scars. I was not only seven years younger, but the youngest of three, which meant … Continue reading

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