Posts by Lee Martin
A Boy Named Hog Sausage
Last Thursday, much to my and Cathy’s regret, our washing machine gave up the ghost. While we await the delivery of a new one, we’ll have to make a trip to a coin-operated laundry. It’s been a while since I’ve been in one of those, but for many years I accompanied my mother on Saturdays…
Read MoreRight Before Our Eyes
On Saturday, I participated in the Kentucky Book Festival. The venue was the Joseph-Beth bookstore, a two-level store in Lexington. We authors sat at our tables with our books displayed, and we chatted with folks who stopped to look at our books. The author who was sharing my table never appeared, so from time to…
Read MoreWhere’s the Joy?
It’s a beautiful autumn Sunday here in central Ohio. It makes me think of long-ago Sunday afternoon drives in the country with my parents. We drove the gravel roads, and my father pointed out where certain families had lived, the fact of their existence found now only in the overgrown mouths of lanes. We always…
Read MoreThe Stories in the Crowd
This past week, Cathy and I ventured to the Circleville Pumpkin Show—a festival so renowned in Ohio that it draws tens of thousands of visitors, even on a weekday afternoon. Cathy and I share a love of people-watching. Our trip to Circleville, then, was more than a quest for pumpkin donuts; it was a chance…
Read MoreLove Is Blind (and So Is Essay Writing)
A year or so ago, my MFA students were constantly talking about a reality dating show called Love Is Blind. Couples “dated” in pods, separated by a wall and unable to see each other unless they eventually agree to be engaged. If you’ve ever watched the show, you know the thrill of not knowing—of trusting…
Read MoreKeep Writing: Controlling What We Can
Well, it finally happened just as I hoped it would. I reached the age of seventy. I’ve been publishing my fiction and nonfiction for thirty-eight of those years, and I’ve also been teaching others what I think I know about craft and the writing life. So much of what happens after we’ve written and sent…
Read MoreA Stranger Comes
When I got up this morning, Timmy, our neighborhood stray cat, was waiting on our patio. As is his custom, he sat very still, looking in through our window. He’s a very patient and persistent cat. He waits until someone comes out with a bit of food for him or fresh water for his bowl.…
Read MoreRevising: Cutting Your Way to the Center
We’re nearing the end of the summer growing season in our garden. We’re still getting a few tomatoes, and a second planting of Blue Lake bush beans is still producing, albeit noticeably more slowly now. A few green peppers are hanging on. We’ve cleared out the first green bean planting, the Brussels sprouts, and a…
Read MoreContext and Association in the Essay
Cathy and I had a small serviceberry tree planted in our landscaping this summer. The tree, as is often the case, was just a tad crooked. Today, we finally got around to staking it with straps and ropes meant to straighten the trunk. In other words, we interrupted its natural growth to train it to…
Read MoreBlackberry Picking
When I was a child on our farm, I often went blackberry picking with my mother. She patiently taught me which berries to pick and which to leave to ripen. She gave me an empty pail that once held the government surplus syrup we got because of my grandmother’s blindness. She lived with us, and…
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