Thursday, December 23, 2010
Friday, December 17, 2010
Monday, December 13, 2010
Wednesday, December 8, 2010
Wednesday, December 1, 2010
Monday, November 22, 2010
...I noticed it when she was born, literally. I mean, she was my second child, and in the hospital -- I was in the hospital for three nights -- she would not go to sleep. And finally one of the nurses said to me, you know, why don't you put her next to you? And that immediately helped, and so it was this -- throughout her infancy and then as she became a toddler, severe sort of attachment issues. And then when she was three -- she was in preschool -- she actually developed selective mutism, where she literally did not say a word at school for two years. And so that's when we started the talk therapy, and we got her to the point -- when she transitioned from preschool to kindergarten, we got her to the point where she could speak in school and be a relatively normal student in school....And she's continued needing occasional talk therapy, and we've even had her in a group therapy with other kids with anxiety disorders. So we continue to do, you know, whatever it is that she needs and try to give her as many tools as we can because I do suspect -- as has been, you know, said earlier in the show -- that this is probably a lifelong battle that she's going to have with this disorder.
Wednesday, November 10, 2010
Friday, November 5, 2010
Sunday, October 31, 2010
Tuesday, October 26, 2010
Thursday, October 21, 2010
Wednesday, October 13, 2010
Sunday, October 10, 2010
Tuesday, October 5, 2010
Thursday, September 30, 2010
I see shoes. All these women, different ages, different sizes, so intimidating that I want to curl up, I look at their shoes and remember their just like me. Sneakers. Flip flops. Slip-ons. Comfy shoes, mostly. Me, I'm wearing boots. They're a little snug in the toes, and I wish the heels were more comfortable. But these women--this space, so "sacred" with its bouquet of flowers in the middle and candle and tissues reminding us YOU WILL CRY!--aren't so scary when I focus on the shoes. We all walked different paths to get here, and no one's judging my path, just as I'm not judging theirs.Humbling, though, to think about where all these shoes have been.
Tuesday, September 28, 2010
The images blurred in her mind. She wondered whether other viewers could tell them apart."We have so much programming coming at us all the time," she says. "Is it too much? Are we becoming desensitized to the entire experience? ... I can't believe a certain amount of that isn't happening."
Monday, September 20, 2010
I last saw Marianne and Daniel in London, 2008. She’s returned to the states (and Daniel is making his first visit!) to tour and visit old friends. Yesterday I drove up to Denison to meet her and some of our friends from the Columbus area. We marveled at how normal it felt to be there on campus; it didn’t feel like eight years had passed since we graduated and walked for hours asking each other, Remember when?! (More often than not, we did).
Today, three of us are writers. One has finished novels and has sent out queries. Another has heaps of stories, some published, some not; some under a pen name, some under her own. And then there’s me.
I’m still stuttering a bit but refusing to fall backwards. I enrolled last week for the fall semester of Woman Writing for (a) Change. The group describes its mission as
Empowering individuals from all walks of life to develop their voices and celebrate their stories, through the art of writing and the creation of community.
The class I will be taking meets weekly, and I look forward to being part of this community. It is for women looking for a creative outlet as well as for ones, like me, who want accountability and feedback as they write.
Monday, September 13, 2010
His comedy is counterprogramming—postmodern entertainment but with a political purpose. As truth has been overrun by truthiness and facts trampled by lies, he and The Daily Show have become an invaluable corrective—he’s Cronkite, the most trusted man in America, although in keeping with the fragmented culture, he’s trusted by many fewer people, about 1.8 million viewers each night.
The more we got to meet people [in the media], it was—‘Oh! You’re f&@ing retarded! You don’t care!’ The pettiness of it, the strange lack of passion for any kind of moral or editorial authority, always struck me as weird. We felt like, we’re serious people doing an unserious thing, and they’re unserious people doing a very serious thing.
Wednesday, September 8, 2010
Tuesday, September 7, 2010
Saturday, September 4, 2010
Tuesday, August 31, 2010
Thursday, August 26, 2010
False belief in weapons of mass-destruction led the United States to a trillion-dollar war. And trust in rising home value as a truism as reliable as a sunrise was a major contributor to the catastrophic collapse of the economy. At its worst extreme, a culture of misinformation can produce something like Iran, which is led by a Holocaust denier.
Tuesday, August 24, 2010
I have always loved books about writing. One of my favorites, William Zinsser's "On Writing Well,"helped shape my nonfiction writing style. I also adore Annie Dillard's "The Writing Life": she discusses not the craft of writing but the process; the writer's journey and struggles. She writes,
This writing that you do, that so thrills you, that so rocks and exhilarates you, as if you were dancing next to the band, is barely audible to anyone else. The reader's ear must adjust down from loud life to the subtle, imaginary sounds of the written word.
From Natalie Goldberg ("Long Quiet Highway" and "Writing Down the Bones") to Anne Lamott ("Bird by Bird: Some Instructions on Writing and Life"), I can't get enough of writers on writing.
And so it is that I have a strong desire to go out and buy books about writing. There's the "Portable MFA in Creative Writing" -- why pay upwards of $20,000 for more schooling when I could get a book? There's the "Idiot's Guide to Writing a Novel"--I don't think I'm an idiot, so the book should make it easy to write a novel! Oh, and there's"How to Write a (Damn) Good Novel"--it has "Damn" in the title, so I know it must be excellent.
But sometimes I think that reading these books is just another way for me to procrastinate. So I'll go for some time on my own. I spent four hours at a bookstore today sketching out the plot and characters of a novel. Just like the Ronald & Cynthia story, I've had the idea for this one in my head the past year or so. And while staring at my notes, I realized I had to eliminate one of the characters altogether. She had been a major character; in fact, she was possibly going to narrate! But once I got rid of her, things made so much more sense and the story began to come together.
I'm excited. After I had decided not to jump in immediately to an MFA program, I felt a little lost: But this gives me direction and an achievable goal.
And as for "Ronald and Cynthia," I've finished the draft; I think a lot of it works, but I need some distance from it before revision.
(Cross-posted at wordpress)
Sunday, August 22, 2010
Friday, August 20, 2010
Thursday, August 19, 2010
For some reason, I thought this shift from non-fiction back to fiction would be natural. I have been writing so much the past few years, from entries to my own blog about politics, my life, my family, my teaching, to contributions to the library blog, to lessons and examples for my students. I feel comfortable writing what I know and doing research to write about what I don't know. It's as natural as breathing. I inhale -- think -- and exhale -- write. In, out, think, write.
But fiction is its own beast, isn't it? To make stuff up! Invent! Create people, settings, situations! This isn't quite breathing to me yet.
And so I practice.
Ronald and Cynthia, they're still figuring things out. A couple thousand words in, I felt like Ronald's point-of-view (even third person, slightly detached) was too creepy; I inserted scenes that were more removed from him to give the reader (and me) a break. I'm not sure how successful those breaks are and what, ultimately, it means for the story. But I'll try to finish the draft today and move onto something else tomorrow.
(Cross-posted at wordpress)
Tuesday, August 17, 2010
Sunday, August 15, 2010
- My dad came to five after five! The food and wine samples were ok--they've definitely been better--but it was awesome having him there with my friends, seeing how I spend my Friday nights.
- The Reds, after getting mauled by the Cardinals last week in three straight games, swept the Marlins this weekend to regain first place. Take that, St. Louis!
- Finally, I'm having a quiet night at home. Tomorrow, write write write.
Wednesday, August 11, 2010
Monday, August 9, 2010
Sunday, August 8, 2010
- Mild Wild Ale - this was a pretty dark beer to start out with, but it's described as "an English session ale with a nice malty flavor which is meant to be drank in large quantities" (of course, we only had 2 oz).
- Ratatouille - eggplant, local zucchini, etc; I skipped it.
- No. 42 Cream Ale - this was yummy; made with corn!
- Sloppy Joes - these weren't so sloppy, but they were still delicious.
- Smoked Bock Beer - this supposedly had "a great smoky bacon flavor and who doesn't love bacon!!!" (I love bacon, but not in my beer)
- Italian Beef Sandwiches - small but thick slice of beef was served in a pita.
- 186,000 MPS Craft Malt Liquor - the server made sure to point out this was 10% alcohol, twice the amount of other samples. Good thing are portions are so small.
- Baked Zucchini Fries - skipped
- Enter the Beagle IPA - this was my favorite of the night, just a classic IPA, not too heavy but still flavorful.
- Kenny's Farmhouse Cheese - small cubes of local cheese paired with roasted almonds; these were awesome together.
Friday, August 6, 2010
Thursday, August 5, 2010
Tuesday, August 3, 2010
Saturday, July 31, 2010
Friday, July 30, 2010
When you can state the theme of a story, when you can separate it from the story itself, then you can be sure the story is not a very good one. The meaning of a story has to be embodied in it, has to be made concrete in it. A story is a way to say something that can't be said any other way, and it takes every word in the story to say what the meaning is. You tell a story because a statement would be inadequate.~ Flannery O'Connor, from Mystery and Manners: Occasional Prose
Thursday, July 29, 2010
Sunday, July 25, 2010
Thursday, July 22, 2010
Wednesday, July 21, 2010
Monday, July 19, 2010
Saturday, July 17, 2010
Tuesday, July 13, 2010
Monday, July 12, 2010
Thursday, July 8, 2010
Tuesday, July 6, 2010
Monday, July 5, 2010
Friday, July 2, 2010
Tuesday, June 29, 2010
Sunday, June 27, 2010
Friday, June 25, 2010
somewhere i have never travelled, gladly beyond
any experience,your eyes have their silence:
in your most frail gesture are things which enclose me,
or which i cannot touch because they are too near
your slightest look will easily unclose me
though i have closed myself as fingers,
you open always petal by petal myself as Spring opens
(touching skilfully,mysteriously)her first rose
or if your wish be to close me, i and
my life will shut very beautifully ,suddenly,
as when the heart of this flower imagines
the snow carefully everywhere descending;
nothing which we are to perceive in this world equals
the power of your intense fragility:whose texture
compels me with the color of its countries,
rendering death and forever with each breathing
(i do not know what it is about you that closes
and opens;only something in me understands
the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses)
nobody,not even the rain,has such small hands