This is my fourth blog post about Stephen King. Similar to Donald Trump and his obsession with how many times his image has appeared on Time Magazine’s cover, Stephen King should be tweeting about the Other Stuff. He’s gotten more real estate than anyone but me. The other day I attended a large work meeting. … Continue reading On Writing Fiction
Creative Nonfiction
The Cat
I lie awake, the minutes after turning out my light, brain active, anticipating the drawing shade of sleep. I took Lorazepam, a mild narcotic. It numbs my brain, silences the concerns that shake me awake in the early hours of tomorrow. Sleep feels unlikely. I wait for the medicine to dissolve. I wait for my … Continue reading The Cat
Portrait of a Runner
May 13, 2014 It all starts with the feet. The birth-place of injuries. I'm a life-long heel striker, and I've paid the price for it. When I started running in the seventies, proper running form didn't exist. Well, this isn't true, but my cross-country coach never once mentioned form. He talked about strategy. "Crest the … Continue reading Portrait of a Runner
Regrets, I’ve had a few
Everyone’s tired. Everyone’s grumpy. We're all exhausted. We pulled in last night at 9:30 after our whirlwind tour of North Carolina colleges. We live in Pennsylvania. It’s practically a southern state compared to New England states like New Hampshire or Vermont, but our winter suits none of us. Especially Sophie. She’s a high school junior, … Continue reading Regrets, I’ve had a few
Scramble
“That looks disgusting.” I was home for lunch. For the third time this winter, my work closed because of a snowstorm. Today’s was a pretty good one. By eleven o’clock we had four inches of fluffy snow. Looking out the window, a somewhat opaque veil added an inch or two each hour. Home for lunch … Continue reading Scramble
Anxious, obsessed
At 8:22 this morning, Tommy woke me up. Accustomed to getting fed at 5:00, I applaud his restraint. His method is always the same, he reaches out a paw and tentatively taps the top of my head. In the winter, I sleep with the covers drawn over my ear and nose. Not much left to … Continue reading Anxious, obsessed
What makes me *Me*
Own it! Look on the bright side! Why fight it if you’re not going to win? Why, indeed? I just picked a fight with an Autistic dude. If you’re in the know on Person First Language, you might chastise me. Dude with Autism you’d say. My way assigns a label, takes away his identity. My … Continue reading What makes me *Me*
Winter Storm Jeff
There’s nowhere I need to be. Today is the third snowy morning of the winter. They’ve cancelled school and my workplace, the county library system, is operating on a delayed schedule. I haven’t worked there long enough to know if we’re likely to close for the day. This is the first real storm we’ve gotten … Continue reading Winter Storm Jeff
Dad-Jokes
“What an adorable little house!” This was Fiona’s friend talking. They came over to babysit Sophie. Eli wasn’t born yet. It was a long time ago; Eli’s now thirteen. Actually, only Fiona came over to babysit, we told her she could bring a friend. It was close to Sophie’s bedtime. My adorable little house was … Continue reading Dad-Jokes
Grand Theft Auto
When I walked into the house, Eli was knocking over a liquor store. He was a man of color, twenty-five years old, and wearing the style of t-shirt I associate with men who fought in World War Two. Popularly it’s known as a wife-beater, but I can’t in good conscious propagate that name without comment. … Continue reading Grand Theft Auto
A Chance Encounter
Wary, maybe cautious. That’s a nice way to put it. Distrustful. Suspicious, is more accurate. Four sets of eyes, watching. A couple and their dogs. Unleashed Dobermans, they seemed in control, all of them, but menacing still. No one moved, no one said a word. Half off the path, glaring. I gave a wave, and … Continue reading A Chance Encounter
My Spot
On Saturday, he woke up sick. Not sick in a way worth blogging about: no visits to the E.R., no uncontrollable vomiting, no diarrhea, he didn’t even have a fever. He was stuffed up, congested. He moved from bed to the corner of the couch, the spot where I always sit, next to the ceiling … Continue reading My Spot
WordPress, Facebook, Twitter
I’ve got this routine. WordPress, Facebook, Twitter. I do this slowly, wanting to savor the alerts. The WordPress red dot, the numbers in the Facebook and Twitter bells. These are my social media. No Instagram, that’s where my kids hang out. I don’t want to crash their party. I do it again. WordPress, Facebook, Twitter. … Continue reading WordPress, Facebook, Twitter
But I had a Plan…
I had a plan. Wednesday night, I heard about the coming weather. Back to back snow storms. Eleven inches between Thursday and Saturday night. This was my chance for a long, snowy run. Years ago, a friend once accused me of Overuse of Superlatives Syndrome. With me, everything is either the best or it’s the … Continue reading But I had a Plan…
Untitled #1
It's a million pounds of marble. It sits like a massive boulder or a bomb-shelter two blocks from the Square, which is what we call the center of town, even though it’s a traffic circle. Past the comic book store and the candy shop and the place that sells expensive shoes from Sweden, the century … Continue reading Untitled #1
Censored by Decency
Gone are the days when I wake up an hour early to write. Long gone. This morning I was up at 5:15. That early alarm setting allows forty-five minutes of quiet self-care—coffee, news, cereal—before my kids grudgingly get out of bed. They require constant and sometimes not-so-gentle nudging towards door to start their school day. … Continue reading Censored by Decency
Shades of Gray
I recently changed jobs. I now work at a library—the finance manager: budgeting, analysis, accounting. My office, with it’s dark-stained wooden doors and frosted transom windows, is massive: 14’ x 14’ x 14’. It’s true, my office ceiling is fourteen feet high. Susan says I suffer from TMF—that’s too much furniture: three desks, five filing … Continue reading Shades of Gray
Appropriating Christmas
I grew up Christian. Not Evangelical, born-again, relationship-with-God Christian. I went to church, I attended Sunday school, but each week when I headed home for my Sunday lunch of sardine and onion sandwiches with my New York City father, I checked my faith at the chapel door. Being Christian was unimportant to me during the … Continue reading Appropriating Christmas
Caffeinated #2
On Saturday morning my head pounds the rhythm of my pulse an alarm clock alerting me that the time to start drinking coffee has already passed. Also: Caffeinated
Hiking In Between
I’m between assignments. Yesterday was my last official day at Survivors—the domestic violence non-profit where I worked over the past year. Tomorrow is my official start date at the Adams County Library System—the job I hope to keep until I’m ready to move to Moab, Utah when Eli gets out of college. Today is the … Continue reading Hiking In Between
