Author Archives: Donna Galanti

I was a serial job interviewee

Last weekend I sat writing in Wegman’s Café and listened to a potential employee stumble through an interview. I cringed for the poor victim as she fumbled her way through answering idiotic questions. And I cringed at ever having to do a job interview again. The bullshit questions. The bullshit answers. I wanted to run over to the victim hunched in her chair and say, “It does get better than this!” and drag her off to give her a free lesson in proper bullshitting. You Continue reading →

Finding Home in the Hearth of Christmas

I’ve always loved a fireplace. From its raging heat blazing with stacked logs to its dying embers in the dark, signaling the night is over. It’s alive. It grows. Then it dies. No two are ever the same. Whether its purpose is to take the chill off a winter night or to fill my head with memories of Christmases long ago that wrap me in nostalgia, it reminds of me of my mother who made everything special at the holidays. I grew up in Upstate Continue reading →

Infinite worlds – out there or inside us

In my suspense novel, A Human Element, we’re faced with the question: Is there life out there? And if there is, will it be hostile or welcoming? The theoretical physicist and cosmologist Stephen Hawking says he’s nearly certain that alien life exists in other parts of the universe. He also says that humans should avoid contact with alien life forms. “If aliens visit us, the outcome would be much as when Columbus landed in America, which didn’t turn out well for the Native Americans,” Hawking Continue reading →

Creating characters from life: good and bad

My new nickname by a pal is Crash. Ever since I crashed my bicycle twice. Both times with different results. I admit to being a speed demon. As Tom Cruise says in Top Gun, “I feel the need. The need, for speed.” I’m an adrenalin junkie. I compete with myself each ride to beat my last time. It’s why I ended up in a full length cast after breaking my leg skiing. Swish. Zoom. Race to the mountain’s end. Cartwheel down instead. Music fuels it. Continue reading →