Posts Tagged: memoir
Road Trip (Stop To Think)
I love a road trip: an open highway, the hypnotic hum of tire against tarmac, a trip so long I forget where I’m going or where I’ve been. Paradoxically, while catapulting down the highway, I am forced to stop and
Road Trip (Stop To Think)
I love a road trip: an open highway, the hypnotic hum of tire against tarmac, a trip so long I forget where I’m going or where I’ve been. Paradoxically, while catapulting down the highway, I am forced to stop and
messing with my head
The instructions went something like this: The first row goes first. The people stand up, walk single file onto the stage, stop, and turn to face the rest of the group. They will stand at the front edge of the
messing with my head
The instructions went something like this: The first row goes first. The people stand up, walk single file onto the stage, stop, and turn to face the rest of the group. They will stand at the front edge of the
Matter Over Mind
The book Dune by Frank Herbert is one year older than I am. Growing up, I was a big fan of psychological-philosophical-science fiction of the 60s and 70s and had a well-loved, battered copy. In Dune, there’s a thing called
Matter Over Mind
The book Dune by Frank Herbert is one year older than I am. Growing up, I was a big fan of psychological-philosophical-science fiction of the 60s and 70s and had a well-loved, battered copy. In Dune, there’s a thing called
form follows function
When writing about one’s life, the urge is to move chronologically, plodding from one place to the next, adding layers of experience and wisdom: and then, and then, and then, conveyed by the hope that somehow, if I put it
form follows function
When writing about one’s life, the urge is to move chronologically, plodding from one place to the next, adding layers of experience and wisdom: and then, and then, and then, conveyed by the hope that somehow, if I put it
troy
I’m lurking in the shadow on the north side of the Mill Valley Middle School, as far away as possible from the playing field and paved quad where most kids hang out. I’m sitting on a weedy planter made of
troy
I’m lurking in the shadow on the north side of the Mill Valley Middle School, as far away as possible from the playing field and paved quad where most kids hang out. I’m sitting on a weedy planter made of
father figure
father figure (you can’t forget what you never knew) * When my oldest daughter turned 12, my father took her out to dinner for her birthday. He had never done that before (they’d never been anywhere without me before) and
father figure
father figure (you can’t forget what you never knew) * When my oldest daughter turned 12, my father took her out to dinner for her birthday. He had never done that before (they’d never been anywhere without me before) and
please say it for me please
I Go Back to May 1937 BY SHARON OLDS I see them standing at the formal gates of their colleges, I see my father strolling out under the ochre sandstone arch, the red tiles glinting like bent plates of blood
please say it for me please
I Go Back to May 1937 BY SHARON OLDS I see them standing at the formal gates of their colleges, I see my father strolling out under the ochre sandstone arch, the red tiles glinting like bent plates of blood
my mother/myself
Conversation after my mother read my first novel: Me: So, what did you think? Mom: I don’t like the mother. She made me feel bad. Me: Not all mothers are you, mom. Mom: I hope not. The mothers in your
my mother/myself
Conversation after my mother read my first novel: Me: So, what did you think? Mom: I don’t like the mother. She made me feel bad. Me: Not all mothers are you, mom. Mom: I hope not. The mothers in your
beautiful things
(body talk #12) In this life, if we’re lucky, we get to know some bodies, by which I mean get close enough so that they leave a lasting imprint. I’m not talking about sex, although that may certainly be one
beautiful things
(body talk #12) In this life, if we’re lucky, we get to know some bodies, by which I mean get close enough so that they leave a lasting imprint. I’m not talking about sex, although that may certainly be one
bodies i have known
(body talk #11) Bodies I have known: let’s start with the women. My grandmother Helen was born in 1906, but she was always old. She was old the way people in old photographs look old — the shape of her
bodies i have known
(body talk #11) Bodies I have known: let’s start with the women. My grandmother Helen was born in 1906, but she was always old. She was old the way people in old photographs look old — the shape of her
Lies My Body Tells Me
Lies My Body Tells Me (a list-in-progress): 1. I have cancer. Why does my back hurt? Must be the tumor on my spine. Why are my hands so papery? Cancer sucking me dry. Why am I so tired? Definitely cancer.
Lies My Body Tells Me
Lies My Body Tells Me (a list-in-progress): 1. I have cancer. Why does my back hurt? Must be the tumor on my spine. Why are my hands so papery? Cancer sucking me dry. Why am I so tired? Definitely cancer.
body talk 3
(continued from here first and here second.) Whenever I write something on the back of my hand I remember Susan because when she saw those ink-stains she’d always point and roll her eyes. “Nice ink,” she’d quip.“You are such a
body talk 3
(continued from here first and here second.) Whenever I write something on the back of my hand I remember Susan because when she saw those ink-stains she’d always point and roll her eyes. “Nice ink,” she’d quip.“You are such a
girl screwed by her own naïveté
When I saw the painting for the first time I thought it must be a fake. It hung on a small wall at the entrance to a cavernous formal dining room where you could almost miss it: an alleged 1954
girl screwed by her own naïveté
When I saw the painting for the first time I thought it must be a fake. It hung on a small wall at the entrance to a cavernous formal dining room where you could almost miss it: an alleged 1954
girl in the hat 