A book signing, a cemetery tour under the full moon, and feeling grateful...

Moonrise over the James River, Hollywood Cemetery, Richmond, Virginia

There’s a popular perception about professors and summer. The story goes something like this: when classes end, we pack away our notes, grab a good book, and spend the next few months soaking up the sun, traveling, or enjoying leisurely mornings with endless cups of coffee.

While that might be true for some, my summer has looked very different. The weeks leading up to the fall semester have been some of my busiest and most rewarding. This summer I have spent my time working and as a volunteer where I connect with my community, and push creative projects forward, work that fuels both my writing and my teaching.

This past weekend was a perfect snapshot of my summer. On Saturday morning, I had a book signing at the Richmond Public Library. The turnout was incredible, and I was reminded once again that my best-selling venues happen to be two places steeped in history and meaning: the library and the cemetery. Both are spaces where stories are preserved, just in different ways.

After signing books, catching up with friends, and meeting new readers, I grabbed lunch with a friend before preparing for my evening Full Moon cemetery tour. This was no ordinary night. We gathered under the Sturgeon Moon in Aquarius, an air sign that speaks to communication, shared visions, and building bridges between past and future. I always try to start each Full Moon tour with a fresh perspective, and this time I even threw in a dad joke which, I must say, landed surprisingly well. It was a reel-y good joke!

We had around 65 attendees that night. Over the course of the three Full Moon tours I have led this summer, we have raised 2,875 dollars for the Friends of Hollywood Cemetery. That money goes directly toward preserving this historic site and ensuring that its stories and beauty remain for generations to come.

After the tour, a few new friends invited me out to a diner. I said yes. That is not my usual post-event routine since I am often home well before midnight, but this time I stayed out until 1 a.m. and it was worth every minute. The good conversations, laughter, and sense of connection cannot be scheduled into a calendar. Okay, it can, and I used to have a spontaneity sticker for my planner, but you know what I mean. 

On Sunday, I ventured into new territory with my first visit to the Oddities and Curiosities Expo. I had never attended before since taxidermy has never been my thing, as I like my goth a little less literal, but I am so glad I went. The creativity on display was inspiring, and I left with my hands full of art. 

Every tour I lead, every conversation I have, and every new experience I step into adds something to my toolkit as an educator. History comes alive when you have walked the ground where it happened. Storytelling deepens when you have stood under the moonlight sharing it with others. Creativity expands when you are open to unexpected inspiration.

For me, summer is not downtime. It is an investment in the work I will be doing all year long. When the semester begins, I will bring these experiences, stories, and renewed energy into my classroom. My students do not just get lectures, they get a richer and more connected view of the world because I have been out there engaging with it.

So yes, the sun is shining, and somewhere in a cemetery, there is a lounge chair with my name on it. For now, I am busy, and I would not have it any other way.

Painting ghosts in the cemetery

We started our day with an Almond Joy latte for Babushka and a Coco Loco for me from Rivers Edge Coffee. With warm cups in hand, we made our way to Overlook 3 at Hollywood Cemetery, with a perfect view, arguably the best, of the James River and the skyline of Richmond.

Lunch came courtesy of Sally Bell’s Kitchen. Babushka went with the Roast Beef & Swiss, while I opted for the Egg Salad Box Lunch, each complete with the perfect sides (potato salad, deviled eggs, and cheese wafers). We claimed a quiet spot near Palmer Chapel and let the day unfold.

Armed with paint-by-number kits featuring ghostly cemetery scenes (because of course we are going to paint ghosts in a cemetery), we settled in. The breeze was soft and the company was steady. Sometimes we talked, sometimes we let the cemetery do the talking.

There were mild grievances, such as Color #7 being questionable at best, and Colors #8 and #9 may have had identity crises, but even our complaints felt like part of the ritual. We spent the afternoon haunting the place, slowly bringing spectral forms to life with every careful brushstroke.

It was my book release day, and oddly, perfectly, it felt like my own kind of release too. A day painted with laughter, ghosts, and Babushkas just the way I needed.

Haunted Virginia Cemeteries: A Séance to the Past 8pm tonight (August 4, 2025)

Episode 243 - Haunted History: Exploring Virginia's Cemeteries with Sharon Pajka

🔮 Prepare yourself for the séance… 🔮

Cemetery Travel Royalty Returns: Loren Rhoads Launches Kickstarter for New Book!

I’ve been a fangirl of Loren Rhoads for years, long before I could call her a friend. Her writing, her insight, and her fearless curiosity made me feel seen. She showed me that it’s okay, even beautiful, to explore cemeteries not just for research, but for recreation and reflection. 

Loren is truly the queen of cemetery travel. She runs CemeteryTravel.com, an incredible resource and community hub for taphophiles, historians, travelers, and the merely curious. And now, she’s back with a brand-new book! Still Wish You Were Here: More Adventures in Cemetery Travel 

This new memoir collects 35 essays from Loren’s journeys through more than 50 burial grounds worldwide from California’s Gold Country to the streets of Singapore, Tokyo, Rome, and beyond. Fifteen of these stories are brand new and exclusive to this book!

Whether she’s tracking down the graves of cultural icons, getting wonderfully lost in foreign churchyards, or meditating on mortality, Loren’s stories are vivid, thoughtful, and deeply inspiring.

Kickstarter is live! and runs until August 8, 2025
https://www.kickstarter.com/projects/lorenrhoads/still-wish-you-were-here-more-adventures-in-cemetery-travel

If cemeteries call to you the way they do to me, if you’ve ever wandered through one feeling connected, curious, or just at peace, this is the book to support.

Thank you, Loren, for making this strange and sacred form of travel feel like home.

Breakfast with the Presidents

Morning Coffee at Hollywood Cemetery

This morning included dropping off my husband at work. Since his office is just down the street from Hollywood Cemetery, I couldn’t resist a detour. With my travel mug of coffee, my yogurt for breakfast, and my journal, I headed down the road, telling myself that I was going to wait out the morning traffic before heading home.

I made my way to one of the overlooks perched above the James River, where the sound of water and the steady hum of cicadas offered a loud, living backdrop. It was one of those perfect early summer mornings, humid but not too hot, buzzing with life, and full of stories waiting to be discovered. There were some fallen limbs and leaves from last night’s storms, and the grass was heavy with morning dew that soaked through my shoes as I walked. I didn't mind, though. 

After journaling, I wandered into some parts of the cemetery that I rarely make time to explore when I'm giving guided tours. There’s something so different about visiting a place without a plan, just letting the place guide your way. 

This morning, they led me to the Crenshaw plot not far from President’s Circle, where I caught a delicate and distinct fragrance on the breeze: the Musk Rose, or Rosa moschata. This particular rose is something special. Once believed to be extinct, the Musk Rose was rediscovered right here in the Crenshaw plot some years ago. Since then, it’s been found in other locations, all tied to the same family. Thanks to the foresight of folks like Connie at Hartwood Roses, cuttings were taken, and the rose now grows in nurseries and gardens, safe from vanishing again. You can read more about its journey on her blog: hartwoodroses.blogspot.com.

This morning, the bush held only two blooms. This rose bush is unique for having two different types of flowers. Apparently, one form is a mutation of the other. It’s a rare and lovely thing to see in person (but mostly to smell!), and even more special knowing its story.

As I was getting ready to head out, I ran into two women walking through the cemetery, sisters with one visiting from Savannah, Georgia. Naturally, the conversation turned to cemeteries. We chatted all things Savannah: Bonaventure Cemetery, the infamous Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil, and the meandering paths of Colonial Park that cut through the city. We even touched on Laurel Grove Cemetery, the final resting place of Juliette Gordon Low, the founder of the Girl Scouts. I love Savannah cemeteries, but you just cannot beat the breeze of the river, which helps keep those pesky gnats away. I bought a mesh head net for the next time I visit Savannah.   

I gave the sisters a quick impromptu tour of Presidents Circle and pointed out John Tyler and James Monroe, the Lloyd family plot (What happened to Frank? If you are familiar with the grave, you know what I'm talking about), and, of course, I had to introduce them to the Musk Rose before parting ways.

There’s something incredibly grounding about mornings like this, feet wet with dew, cicadas singing, unexpected conversations blooming among the graves. History isn’t just in books or plaques; it’s in the plants, the stones, the people you meet, and the stories you pass along.

And sometimes, it starts with a cup of coffee and a slight change in your morning routine. 

For those who couldn't get out to the cemetery this morning, here's a short video of part of my morning stroll. 

“Writing the Dead”: A Creative Reckoning with America’s Last Taboo

Black Beauty rosebud currently blooming

This morning, I read "The modern taboo that Americans just can’t seem to break," Sara Youngblood Gregory’s timely piece in Vox on the persistent silence around death in American culture. It’s a moving exploration of how, despite our thoughts often turning to mortality, we struggle to give voice to our grief, our fears, and our hopes about what comes after. From families that sidestep the subject altogether to a culture shaped by euphemism and for-profit deathcare, the result is clear: we are left ill-equipped to process loss or live fully in its shadow.

That’s why I’m offering a new six-week course this fall through the Transformative Language Arts Network: “Writing the Dead.” This course is not about resolving the mysteries of mortality. It’s about embracing them openly and together.

Black Beauty rose from my garden

Like Gregory’s article, this course begins with the premise that our reluctance to speak of death carries real emotional, psychological, and even societal costs. And yet, there is a powerful antidote in the act of making meaning. When we write and create in the wake of loss, or in conversation with it, we don’t just face death, we build a relationship with it. We connect to memory, to community, and to what it means to be alive.

Over six weeks, we’ll gather to explore death, grief, and remembrance through creative writing, visual art, and dialogue. We’ll read short texts, examine art, and create our own responses to profound questions. Writing letters to the dead, crafting rituals of remembrance, and sharing our stories will become tools for deep inquiry, healing, and transformation.

As the Vox article makes clear, most Americans think about death regularly, but only a third ever talk about it. This course offers a space to break that silence. Not in isolation, but in community.

Together, we will:

• Explore cultural and personal narratives around death and dying.

• Use writing to process grief and affirm connection.

• Learn from traditions that treat death as an integral part of life—not a forbidden subject.

• Approach our creative practice not as escape, but as a meaningful confrontation.

If you’re curious, if you’re grieving, if you’ve ever whispered to a loved one who’s no longer here, or wished you could, this course is for you. Let’s step into the conversation that matters most, and discover how writing can become a living dialogue between what’s lost and what remains.

“Writing the Dead” begins this fall through TLAN. Join us—and let’s talk about what no one talks about.