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On the Outside: The Writing of Memoir
I never learned to swim. Unlike most country boys who learned when their fathers tossed them into a pond and they had to keep themselves from going under, I remained grounded. My father couldn’t do the tossing because, as many of you know, he had no hands to lift me, having lost his in a…
Read MoreLessons from My Seasoned Friends
This weekend, some former neighbors came to visit. We rounded up the old gang—a group who used to gather on patios and in restaurants just to enjoy one another’s company, which is exactly what we did last night. It was good to be back together with this crowd, to break bread together, to laugh, and,…
Read MoreTen Thoughts for Writers and Teachers
As I approach my 70th birthday (fewer than four months to go!), I find myself looking back at all the years of teaching and writing with an eye toward what I think I’ve learned. Here’s my list. I pass it along in case some of you might find it useful as you consider your own…
Read MoreQ and A: Details as Doorways
Cathy and I are back from a book festival in Louisville, Kentucky. We were delighted to catch up with an old friend and to make a new one. During dinner after the festival closed, our new friend asked a question: “What was an odd dessert you made for yourself when you were a kid?” My…
Read MoreUsing Questions to Write a Novel
My apologies for being late with this week’s post. I spent the weekend at a writer’s conference with my wife Cathy. I’d taught at this conference the past two years, but this time Cathy was a participant, and I was just along for the ride. I thought I’d take some notes about a new novel…
Read MoreThe Last Time
‘Tis the season of transition. High school students are graduating and moving on to the next phases of their lives. My MFA students are doing the same. Friends are moving, some of them to distant places. Yesterday, Cathy and I hosted a “See You Later” party for one such friend. It’s a sad occasion for…
Read MoreFirst Notice Everything
Each year when I see peonies in bloom, I think of what we used to call Decoration Day. Each Memorial Day, my parents and I drove from one country cemetery to another. We brought coffee cans full of peonies and irises. We filled the coffee cans with gravel. We wrapped them with foil paper. I…
Read MoreReading Backwards: A Revision Strategy
I have the manuscript of a novel that I’ve been sitting with for a couple of years. I’ve gone through it a couple of times and done small revisions. This year, my teaching consumed me. I didn’t have the time and energy to look at the novel one more time. Now, the school year behind…
Read MoreThe Other Mothers
When I was a little boy, I was greedy for my mother’s attention. An only child, I lived with my parents on an eighty-acre farm. When the children at the farm across the fields were otherwise engaged, my mother was my potential playmate. She was a kind and patient woman, but she was burdened by…
Read MoreNational Teacher Appreciation Week: A Message Comes
How appropriate it is that here on the cusp of National Teacher Appreciation Week, I receive a message from one of my mother’s third-grade students from 1967. He writes to say she was his favorite teacher from his elementary school years. He includes a class photo which shows him standing close to her. He’s wearing…
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