NaNoWriMo is coming. I haven't been writing and have been overwhelmed at work, and so thinking that I can write a novel in November is foolishness. But I love NaNoWriMo. And I've got an idea. Before my mother died, she started a novel. She called it The Death Man and it was autobiographical. It is …
Category: writing
The Past Is a Discovered Country But Poorly Understood
The picture here was taken only after about two or three days in Bulgaria as a Peace Corps volunteer. It was July 4th and I hardly knew any of my fellow volunteers. Over the next 2 years perhaps we got to know each too well in some ways and not nearly enough in others. Seventeen …
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Asking for Trouble
When I say to her, "That's a pretty bracelet," she says, "Thanks! I bought it from a Christian jeweler!" When I say, "I like the painting over the fireplace," she says, "Thanks! I got it from a Christian painter!" And I confess, I want to say, "Oh, well, thank heaven it wasn't a Muslim or …
Understanding Character
I walked toward the door of Joe's thinking my worries were over. Not that my stomach didn't twist a bit. That Guy might be there. But that was silly. He'd had one disagreement with the owners, been accused of bothering female customers, it is only in my writer imagination that he'd be in there. I …
And that’s the end.
I went to Joe's today to buy coffee and breakfast tacos. One of the owners, D., was working the counter, and he asked if I had a moment to talk. D. talked to That Guy on the phone. They'd had some other issue with him--"weird" chimed in D's partner--but he also talked about me. D. …
How many words tells a story?
One of my students has decided to write a novel. He's 20 and French. His novel is a thriller with a dash of sci-fi. The premise is great, and the writing can really come together if he gives it the attention it deserves. I've never had a student want to write a novel. Or at …
The Unexpected
My son and I walked up the concrete steps after spending about an hour walking around a nearby pond, taking pictures of action figures, and watching a woman and her sons try to get a frisbee out of a tree. The sun had come out from behind the clouds turning the air sticky. The walk …
Cover Yourself
When I tell people I teach English as a second language, they usually say, "Oh. You speak Spanish?" "No." I wait a beat. "Most of my students don't speak Spanish either." My students come from Mexico, Chile, Argentina, Colombia, Venezuela, Brazil, Spain, France, Cameroon, Ivory Coast, Iran, Iraq, Egypt, Saudi Arabia, Jordan, Turkey, Pakistan, Taiwan, …
Free!
I scan the parking lot and don't see the car I think That Guy drives. My friend, E., and I walk into Joe's, and we see our friend K. He's finishing up a short story. I look around. I look around again. No. That Guy is not here. At the counter, the barista asks me …
Ordinary Mind and Melodramatic Mind Duke It Out
I try to live my life like a reasonable person. No, I don't want any melodrama with my latte, thank you very much. But part of my brain runs as if it were trying to write its own melodramatic novel. In Bulgaria, I used to ride trams that had accordion sections connecting the compartments. When …
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Marta Bacon 