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It Is What It Is: Writing Memoir from the Voices of Our Pasts
My father had a penchant for colorful sayings. “Can’t never did nothing,” he often told me when I complained I couldn’t perform a task. “You’re breeding a scab on your ass,” he said when I misbehaved. “You’re just talking to hear yourself roar,” he said when I got too chatty. And, of course, when I…
Read MoreDark Corners: A Writing Prompt
My wife Cathy and I went to the apple orchard yesterday. The Honeycrisp is my favorite apple, and I welcome its return each autumn. It tells me we’ve made it through another year, but it also tells me time is swiftly passing. The seasons of a single life eventually run out, and those who love…
Read MoreUntil It’s Done: Writers and Work
(I’m recycling this Labor Day post from two years ago) On this Labor Day weekend, I’m thinking a good deal about work and what it takes to keep doing it. My father farmed all his life until his heart disease forced him to stop. His second heart attack, the one that killed him, happened when…
Read MoreRetirement
Last week’s blog focused on new beginnings and ended with this quote from Walt Disney: “We keep moving forward, opening new doors, and doing new things, because we’re curious and curiosity keeps leading us down new paths.” Apparently, my wife Cathy took Disney’s quote to heart because this past week, she decided to give her…
Read More“The First Time I. . . .”—A Writing Prompt
It’s that time again, the start of a new school year. Today, I was on campus for our MFA picnic and orientation. I’d just entered Denney Hall via a side door that was open when I saw two young women peering through the glass doors at the front of the building. I opened the door…
Read MoreThe Toys We Never Had: A Writing Prompt
This post is late today because I got back yesterday after teaching a week-long novel workshop at the Vermont College of Fine Arts Postgraduate Writers’ Conference. While there, I spent some time talking about the importance of finding a way to feel the emotional complexity of a character by tapping into some complicated moments from…
Read MoreA Writing Community Is a Home
For a while now, I’ve been obsessed with watching YouTube videos of people hearing particular songs for the first time. I like seeing them react to songs I remember from my teenage years: Simon and Garfunkel’s “Bridge Over Troubled Water,” Procol Harum’s “A Whiter Shade of Pale,” Jim Croce’s “Operator.” The listeners’ reactions—usually ones of…
Read MoreThe Artful Use of a Wound
When I was in the fourth grade, my teacher told me I had no imagination. She’d asked us to draw something appropriate for Christmas, and I’d drawn a nativity scene—Joseph and Mary and the Christ child. My teacher, when she saw it, wrinkled her nose. “Clearly,” she said, “you have no imagination.” I’ll admit I…
Read MoreCharacters and Pressure
My wife Cathy has spent this weekend canning and freezing: blackberry jam, bread and butter pickles, and corn. I’ve lent a hand: toting, shucking, mashing, cleaning. My mother spent her summers preserving food, so it’s a nostalgic thing for me to listen to the jar lids popping as they seal, the hot jars cooling, the…
Read MoreThe Case of the Missing Shirt: Some Tips for Writing Narratives
“You put it in the suitcase, didn’t you?” my wife Cathy says. “Oh, no. Don’t tell me,” I say. “You have got to be kidding.” (I rarely begin a narrative with dialogue, but in this case it seems called for, given the urgency of the situation). The “it” in question is my favorite shirt. It’s…
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