April is National Poetry Month! I've dug down deep for this one, written for my Mom at least 30 years ago when she was the age that I am now. For My Mother and Other Collectors of Strays I want you to contradict me. When I shiver in my cavernous apartment complaining that autumn … Continue reading For My Mother and Other Collectors of Strays
I think I can say without fear of contradiction that this has been a weird year. And hey!--suddenly, it's Easter again. It feels rather surreal. Like many people, I have done very little to celebrate holidays during the pandemic. That's okay; I'm all for downsizing the fuss and nonsense and commercialization. Truth be told, I … Continue reading Easter Greetings/Pandemic Edition
Imagine a world where suddenly and inexplicably the sick and injured begin to emit light. Open wounds shine like flash lights, acne sparkles like glitter, leukemia patients shimmer and glow, and muscle tension can be seen “twisting like algae in an underwater current.” This is the stunning phenomenon that drives Kevin Brockmeier’s The Illumination. Though labeled a novel, … Continue reading The Illumination, a review
Anderson Cooper came by my house to repair the busted slats on my back fence and to tell me I use too many ellipses in my writing. I told him I use ellipses because I like them!— but I told him not in a “I’ll do what I want” kind of way. I told … Continue reading Dot Dot Dot
I have lived in the city of Sacramento, the capital of California, my entire life. So it was disturbing a few weeks ago to learn that alt right organizations were threatening unspecified acts of terrorist violence in state capitals. Since I continue to “shelter” during the pandemic, I have not gone downtown to take a look, but … Continue reading My Capitol
I wrote this a month ago with my Thursday night writing group, and I didn’t use too many of the prompts, though I did use these: out to lunch, for whose eyes do I write today, shedding inhibitions, “A writer is not one who answers questions but who asks them.” What I miss most is going … Continue reading What I Miss Most
In the first paragraph of Deacon King Kong by James McBride, the title character, aka Cuffy “Sportcoat” Lambkin, shoots a young drug dealer on the plaza of a public housing project where they both live in 1969 New York City. The surprise is that a story with such a gritty opening turns out to be a genuine, feel-good, … Continue reading Deacon King Kong, a review
Greetings! This week I've updated a Christmas post from a few years past. It seems more meaningful than ever right now. Long ago, in the pagan cultures of the far north, work and travel were severely limited by cold and snow as days grew shorter. Farmers and their families would remove a wheel from their carts … Continue reading Meditation on an Advent Wreath
I’ve heard it said that Russian novels are so long because Russian winters are so cold! What better way to spend time inside than reading a book? In Iceland I hear there’s a tradition of gifting family and friends with books and chocolate so they may take to their beds cozy and satisfied for a long … Continue reading Celebrating Books
My cat Zuzu and I just spent a contemplative ten minutes watching a bird darting about the branches of the camellia bushes that grow just outside my dining room window. It was a spur of the moment activity that was fun and diverting for both of us. After the bird flew on her way, I … Continue reading Greetings
