The past is ever present and waiting in the future. At least, have you ever felt that way? Someone from the past sent me this picture of my mother. I hadn't seen it before. It is hard not to compare myself to her. She was prettier, smarter, sharper, more interesting, more precise, and more talented. …
The Writer’s Closet
I say few things as crazy as, "I'm a writer and an artist." I might as well be saying, "I know the secret to happiness and will tell you for $29.99. Make the check payable to cash." And since I don't want to be a delusional fraud, it would be nicer to hide in a …
How’s work going?
How hard are you willing to work to be published? What do you give up to write or make art? Do you lose sleep? Give up TV? If you're not giving up anything, do you think you should?
Do we ever leave the playground?
This photograph my mother took symbolizes my mood from over the last few days. If your life right now could be captured on a playground, what would we see? You swinging high or thudding to the ground on the teeter-totter? Dangling from the monkey bars? Zipping down the slide? Bawling over a skinned knee? Playing …
Hush. Therapy in session.
For a while now I've been dragging out stories from the past to wrap them around some writing idea. Recently I've begun to wonder, however, if I'm not too stuck back there, feelings that should be over and done still right under the surface. What's it mean to be over something anyway? Should writing be …
At Loose Ends
I plan to keep the adventure stories over on facebook, but this image captured the mood of my creativity these days. And I don't know what is going to happen next. Do you?
This is just to say
I read this article about memoirs and several comments there have stuck with me. And so... This is just to say I have finished the stories that were in my head and which you were probably reading for entertainment. Sorry. They were fun. So good for me. And so draining.
Why are you calling?
I wait until the house is empty because I don't want anyone to hear what I'm going to say. I sit at the dining room table and open the address book to the letter A. It takes me a few minutes to dial the first number even though I've want to finish the book before …
Experienced Enough for This
Change came in a tiny box. I registered for the SAT and somewhere on the paper was a box to order a book of colleges and universities. Sure that I was destined for community college, I got out my lunch money that I hadn't spent on lunches and ordered a copy. The massive book arrived …
The Tall Club
I had to post this link. Had to. The Vexations and Virtues of Tallness
Marta Bacon 