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 …
Continue reading If people were perfect, would we have fiction?
Letters from the Dead
Don't speak ill of the dead. Do you follow this rule? A while ago, I decided to write a few posts using letters I've received from different people over the years. I went looking for the letters. Most I found. The letters from my mother I didn't. Hours passed as I tore through boxes looking. …
Box the life right out of me.
"That's all we are in the end. A pile of boxes." That's a line from the 8th episode of Torchwood. The team has to go through the belongings of a dead colleague. This came to mind this week as my husband and I got ready for new carpet. Everything had to come off the floor. …
No respect for you, missy. None at all.
I'm in the midst of an art marathon, but I read this article the other day and it has been swirling in my head since. The article on why science-fiction (and I'll toss fantasy into the mix) writers can't win respect (or literary prizes). And I hate to cast even the slightest negative shadow over …
Culprit Caught
The poet came to our school and took us for a nature walk. He showed us leaves that we could pluck from plants along the lake's edge and eat. Back in the classroom he sat us down and read his poetry. The teacher told us to write haiku too. She picked her favorites and gave …
something scary this way comes
Today begins spring break. In my neck of the woods anyway. When the break is over, I'll go back to school, but only for two days a week. With my new free-from-paying-work time, I'm supposed to make something of myself. Write. Make art. Make a mistake? I'm excited about the time. Worried that I should …
a few words of advice
Marta, ...First, now that you tell me I guess I did hurt you pretty much, you didn't really hurt me, for say, but you embarassed the hell out of me. ... Marta, your hair is looks about the same everyday long and blah! And your face, well, you really do need make-up. ...some of the …
I feel the story right here.
The Oscars were on and dad expected me to be in bed. It was 1985. I sat in the dark, the light and volume turned down to almost black and silent, and my ear pressed to the television speaker. I didn't get caught. Acting never appealed to me, but storytelling was something else again. I …
Marta Bacon 