I’m going to say right off the bat here that I’ve got a recipe for you. It seems I’ve lost some of you here and on social media with all these march photos, and if you’re on the brink of going that way, that’s okay–it’s your choice to make, whatever your reasons. But if a recipe is what…
run straight towards it
I went to my first march when I was 10 or 11, a big NOW wave through the streets of Boston, flanked on either side by my mother and grandmother. It ended in a grand church where some important speaker got up and spoke about the power of choice, but, distractible as I was, I spent the…
entertained
It might be the fact that I’ve got the Hamilton Broadway recording on repeat inside my head. I blame Joey and Rosie who started listening in December. It was strange, as Joey’s not a musical fan and Rosie doesn’t tend to hold on to things this tight, but but mid-December it was all Hamilton all the time with…
August 6
When I was little, I went to a place I remember in my mind as Peace Camp. The camp director was the brother of a friend of my mother’s, and she worked out some deal to get me out of her hair for the summer. My first year, I was seven, the youngest camper there….
the salad days are still yet to come
Dear anyone who has input on the magazine covers at the checkout line of my local supermarket, Stop it already. I’m done looking at your offensive headlines and your photoshopped women who probably don’t even recognize themselves. I’m done with all your weight loss and fad diet bullshit to get ready for bathing suit season….
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Occasionally I teach workshops, and I have one coming up this fall. Join me and stellar novelist 