There is no greater agony than bearing an untold story inside you.
- Maya Angelou, I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings
The Writer's Life as Creative Survival
Teaching writing workshops has turned out to be one of the most spellbinding, inspiring, life- and self-changing accidental decisions I have ever made. In my younger, but ever vivid imaginings, my heaps of education would lead me to the blessed shores of a capital-A Academic collegiate theorizing literary dream world. But, I had a much … Continue reading All characters welcome (a workshop announcement)
I’m working on my wonder. It needs a bit of a tune-up. My wonder has gone wonky, as it were. The bad things, the overwhelming and seemingly hopeless, tend to take wonder and throw it in the dryer on hot until it shrinks up and forever thereafter fails to cover the proverbial muffin top of … Continue reading On wonder
The immediacy intrinsic to this our current version of life makes me feel as though I’m forever engaged in an epic battle against time. That’s fancy talk for: I spend most of my time feeling like the embodiment of an actual living, breathing Day-Late-and-a-Dollar-Short. I imagine myself as a Carnivale-esque side show has-been, the one … Continue reading Found: Some (spring) time
A therapist once told me that I have an over-inflated sense of justice. It lingers as one of the more jarring lessons in stripped-down candor that have slapped me into self-reflection. I was aghast and filled with that particular sort of indignation that runs on embarrassment and shame. It felt wrong, but I was young, … Continue reading How do you solve a problem like an over-inflated sense of justice?
There is no greater agony than bearing an untold story inside you.
I used to watch my writing languish. Literally. Like some lazy do-no-good or a comatose soap opera actor waiting for a brain transplant. My ex, would offer to read something I’d poured myself into, hours of pen and paper, computer screen, and back to pen and paper, the cycle of writing and revising spinning until … Continue reading Write to live (or, how not to die)
I walked to the pond every day as my life ripped asunder beneath the sharp edges of the summer sun. I didn’t think I could lose any more, but that’s the pitfall of thinking. We fail to realize that much of it is dreaming or hoping or both and that only hindsight reveals the truth. … Continue reading A place to put it all
– Anne Lamott, Bird by Bird: Some Instructions on Writing and Life
– Arthur W. Frank, The Wounded Storyteller: Body, Illness & Ethics
The good story refuses denial . . .