Her hand clenches and unclenches near her chest. She pulls hair back behind her shoulder. "I'm sorry, Marta. I can not take the test." My bag is heavy. My hands are full. "Oh? Okay." "I'm sorry. You know, yes? I've got an appointment. It is my back." She frowns. "Test is Wednesday, yes?" It is …
The Deal for Art. The Art of the Deal.
In spite of everything a writer, an artist, has to eat. Okay, no one here is going hungry. Well, when I go hungry it is because I refuse to stop working to get food. Coffee takes enough time as it is. But ink needs to be bought, paper, pens, pencils, X-Acto blades, glue, postage, envelopes, …
an unmappable country
Have you ever heard a child cry for its mother? Today I heard a 15 year old girl cry for hers. But her mother is dead. The service is in Korean. I understand not a word but understood anyway. That's child's crying digs right into my heart. And I learn the Korean word for mommy. …
The Easter Bunny Is Late
The Easter Bunny wrote, Easter, 1985 My Dear Ms. Pelrine, Your mother asked me to send you a chocolate unicorn for Easter. I had to point out to her that, even though you love chocolate, you were not likely to want to eat a chocolate unicorn. And besides, where I would find such a creature …
Your Perspective
A student of mine committed suicide yesterday. She was the mother of two. All this worry about writing seems like nonsense today.
Are you offended yet?
"I met another girl called Marta once." Pause. "But she was Mexican." Or maybe they say Russian. I've also had this conversation. "Where are you from?" "Florida." "No. Where are you from?" "I'm from Florida." Exasperation. "But your name is Marta and you talk different. Where are you from?" And this. "Wow, Marta. You're English …
I think I made you up inside my head.
In one college English class, I had to choose a poem, get several people (English and non-English majors) to read the poem, interview each person about the poem, and write a report about the results. I hated the class, but I loved this assignment. The poem--a villanelle (I didn't give the poem's title or the …
Mad Girl
Like many a good college girl in 1988, I wrote a paper about Sylvia Plath. About one paper, my professor wrote Marta, You combine striking images (of your own & from Plath) with some careful assessment of this love-and-hate affair. I appreciate your moving beyond the easy Freudian interpretations of a life, which in its …
Pay What You Owe
October 18, 1984 Dear Marta, I just talked with your grandmother over the telephone, so let's get the unpleasant business out of the way. She tells me that she paid part of the doctor's bill for your examination of your ankle. How is that? Did I not give you $150. in cash? Please pay the …
If people were perfect, would we have fiction?
On February 6, 1989, my mother wrote It has occurred to me that much of what would go to build your reservoir you will draw on as a writer are things, have been things, that it might trouble you to write knowing I--or your dad or your grandmother--might read. There's probably nothing you could write …
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