Tag Archives: memoir

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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Airing the Laundry

I will be taking off the next three weeks.  My next post will appear Friday, October 21. I’ve never worried about offending anyone while writing.  Maybe it’s all those years of uncensored diary entries about mad crushes and revenge fantasies and how my mother infuritated me – but getting the words down about real people always came easily. The trick, of course, is when the time comes for those people to see those words.  Last month, Meghan Ward posted on her blog, Writerland, about the dangers of airing one’s  “family’s dirty laundry.”   Publishing words – however honest – about those … 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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