Tag Archives: life of a writer
The Shame I Feel
I’m stupid. I’m inadequate. I am a failure. This is what I grew up believing about myself, and there was no place that proved these points more often, more relentlessly, and more consistently than school. All day long, five days … Continue reading
Making Art in the Age of Trump
Writing takes spaciousness. It requires managing time and psychic space. It requires holding part of yourself away from things: reality, jobs, bills, money, even marriage and partnership and family. It requires keeping a large part of your heart and mind … Continue reading
Relearning Stillness
For two months I have been on the move within a twelve mile radius. I was forced to leave my beloved studio (dubbed the treehouse) where I have worked and taught my classes for ten years. There was a lot … Continue reading
Walls, Doors and Windows
I am thinking about walls, doors and windows, and the rooms that many writers feel they are kept out of. The feeling is real. I have a lot of experience with walls, doors and windows. Besides the fact that I … Continue reading
Free Advice
When you’re a writer, you receive a lot of free advice. A good deal of it (most, I’d say) comes from people who do not write. I’ve been told I have to learn Latin (which I have nothing against, but … Continue reading
The Conversation
This is a conversation I have had quite often: “How do I get to do what you do?” I am asked. “What exactly do you mean?” How do I get a book published? How do I get paid to teach … Continue reading
Obsession
My life, my mood, my days, my sleep – everything goes better when I have an obsession. Not the unhealthy kind. Not the does-he-love-me-why-doesn’t-he-call kind of obsession. Not the I-need-a-new-pocketbook-and-complete-wardrobe-overhaul kind of obsession. Not the I- need-to-pull-my-life-up-by-the-roots-and-start-all-over kind of obsession. … Continue reading
Chasing Poetry
Every day the poems slip away, as indifferent as cats. They slink behind trees and clouds. The burble beneath the swamp. I glimpse them floating downstream as I am walking up. But they are not just in the woods. They … Continue reading