Tag Archives: friendship

Playtime

I read with interest Gina Gionfriddo’s article in last Sunday’s New York Times about her new play’s “inadvertent homage” to Wendy Wasserstein’s Heidi Chronicles.  Gionfriddo’s play Rapture, Blister, Burn—which opened this week at Playwrights Horizons, the same theater where Heidi had its premiere in 1988—features a 40-something female academic with a successful writing career and second thoughts about her personal life. I saw Heidi Chronicles in New York when I was in my late twenties and, like many women, felt it could have been written just for me.  Like Gina Gionfriddo, I too share Wasserstein’s “certain temperament…that makes you feel … Continue reading

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Friends Indeed

I have a folder in my email inbox titled Friends.  I also have one for Teaching, with subfolders for different classes.  No doubt there’s a better way to organize (Friends from Way Back; Acquaintances I Rarely See; BFF) but I stick with the general.  Lately I’ve been consider a new category, somewhere between Teaching and Friends. I taught Julie a year ago, and when the class was over, we started emailing—not that often, and usually on the topic of writing.  But the tone had changed, the balance of power shifted, so I thought of her in a new way. When … Continue reading

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Back In the Saddle

My husband has a friend who falls in love every week.  Ed meets women at parties or around town, talks (or not) with them, and falls.  Sometimes hard, sometimes not so hard – but either way, regardless of what transpires, he’s a goner.  Until the woman lets him know she’s not interested, until a dud first date, until the relationship sours.  And then he’s out the next weekend, falling all over again. This resiliency in romanticism amazes my husband and me.  Ed gets back on the horse, but my husband and I, when disappointed in love, went off and nursed … Continue reading

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Our Books, Our Selves?

A few years ago, after giving a reading, I invited questions. My friend Bonnie raised her hand. “You’re so private,” she said. “But you write so personally! You’re so open in your book!” She smiled, her voice affectionate, and yet in her question I heard astonishment and a twinge of hurt, as though I’d confided more in the blank page than I had in her. And I had. As a child, I found in writing not so much a friendly audience – which posited the Other – as a welcome reprieve from the Other. We lived in a neighborhood of … Continue reading

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My good friend Jane

We all have friends like her.  You know the ones.  Months, years go by, and when you see them again, it’s as if no time has passed.  Kim, whom I met thirteen years ago at a writers’ colony.  Sarah, with whom I used to work in New York City.  Jane, who never ages. Maybe you know Jane, too.  She lives inside well-worn pages, and recently, again on the screen.  She’s strong and gentle, direct and candid.  She’s the kind of woman you treasure as a friend, the kind of woman you want to be.  She overcame a brutal childhood and … Continue reading

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