“Mmmm.” A dozen voices in unison. Heads nod, claps splatter, polite, but well intentioned. “Wooo, Jenny!” One guy does the snapping thing. By the third reader, I begin to anticipate the Mmmm, an exclamation of knowing approval. After every poem: Mmmm. By coincidence, this happened a couple of weeks ago during an interview. A strong … Continue reading Mmmm
Reading
The Book of Losman
Losman and I are identical. I often felt like I was reading about myself. So much so, that by page seventy-five, I was so agitated I almost stopped reading altogether. This is an excerpt from an email I sent to Kyle Semmel the other day. He’s the author of the book I just finished. Right … Continue reading The Book of Losman
Thankful
Is this finally our year? No guests, no invites, no one to please but ourselves. No turkey or stuffing. No cringy corn. None of Julie’s carrot stew I pretend to enjoy. No football on TV or bottles of zin to make me regret sobriety. No arguments about immigration while we eat. A mid-day hike. A … Continue reading Thankful
Some Strange Music
I pass daily by the new fiction shelves. The books on display, each cracked open to forty-five degrees, stand on their own. I used to stop here to browse on my way into work, my accounting job at the library system. All lights out except the nighttime emergency light, opening time still an hour away. … Continue reading Some Strange Music
Of Perfume and Pan
Consider the beet. Does a better opening line exist in fiction? Confidently giving the reader an earnest command: The beet, consider it! For my return to reading after a year-long hiatus, I selected Tom Robbins’ Jitterbug Perfume from my bookshelf. I often said “this is my favorite book” even though I haven’t opened it since … Continue reading Of Perfume and Pan
Killer Robots from the Future
Why leave a comment no one will ever read? I do this regularly at washingtonpost.com. My go-to news source offers readers an opportunity to comment on their articles. I did this today. Alexandra Petri, a Washington Post opinion columnist, knocked out a mildly amusing five-hundred words on her dislike of San Francisco’s killer robot plan. … Continue reading Killer Robots from the Future
David Sedaris
I saw David Sedaris read again last night. How many times now? Three come to mind easily. The time in DC, George Washington University. We didn’t have tickets. A rumor spread, more seating would open up, people should wait at the door. Susan and I got there first, the front of the line. Our friend … Continue reading David Sedaris
Junk Shops
Dammit. I can’t find that post. I searched the blog for flea market, junk and vendor. No luck. No patience either. I want to write, not browse someone else’s blog looking for a post I might never find. I read it during my transition phase, shortly after I attended the West Virginia writer’s workshop. I … Continue reading Junk Shops
Hrurh
I don’t check my pulse; I don’t check my blood pressure. I sit with a tight chest, constricted lungs, rigid, like they might crack if I breathe too deeply. I woke today with a headache. I went to bed last night with the same headache. I made no progress over night. I worried when I … Continue reading Hrurh
Kill the First Line
Y’all don’t write enough blog posts. Around the start of the pandemic, my attention span shortened. A causal relationship? Probably. I felt compelled to check the Johns Hopkins covid map every twenty minutes. And then the news, looking for the next appalling thing President Trump said or did. He rarely disappointed. The covid numbers crept … Continue reading Kill the First Line
A Christmas Carol (part ii)
I read it every December. The library owns a ratty old copy, a broken binding, a lousy font. The lines sit too close together. People like me with a propensity towards double vision struggle not to jump around—reread the last line, skip to the next. Even though I know I’ll read it, since I always … Continue reading A Christmas Carol (part ii)
Redux
Blog stats: Ring Dings—six page views today. Published five years ago, suddenly it’s viral. Practically viral, at least for me. Did somebody email out the URL? Maybe it’s the “MORE ON WORDPRESS” recommendation at the bottom of somebody’s post. I wish I used better analytics. I’d like to know where the readers come from. Did … Continue reading Redux
Entry into the World of Reading
When did it start for you? I was fifteen. Home from school, sick with the flu. I suppose it was one of those late-illness recovery days where I was still too sick to leave the house but well enough to be bored silly. This was 1977. No internet, no DVDs or VCR, no video games. … Continue reading Entry into the World of Reading
Roz
Roz. For me, the name evokes images of a past-prime babe. The girl who peaked in her teens. Now hanging out at a bar. Boozy, desperate. Trying to recapture the glory of her youth. Not yet old, but getting there, and definitely worn out. That’s the image I see, anyway. We all have name biases. … Continue reading Roz
Snippets
What did you do today? I came home from work early, a half day. My workplace, a public library, closed on Tuesday. The board dismissed all employees for emergency leave—which is paid, so far. The high school is closed for the rest of the month; my kids are on an extended break, the teachers expect … Continue reading Snippets
Social Distance
Spring Break 2020! Wooo! Accountants gone wild! I ran a longish route today. Longish? Long starts at seven miles, at least in my mind. I don’t know where I got that, but I’ve believed it since 1988, when I started running long-runs. Six is a run, seven’s a long-run. Just like that, inarguable. I’d love to … Continue reading Social Distance
Kathleen Hale is a Crazy Stalker
I’m on a nonfiction kick. Two books in a row, for me that’s a kick. I probably read one nonfiction book about every eighteen months, so this kick of mine is notable. One weekend a few months ago, two books caught my attention: The Rise of the Ultra Runners by Adharanand Finn and Kathleen Hale … Continue reading Kathleen Hale is a Crazy Stalker
Like?
When you read a blog post do you hit Like? I do, almost every time. If I make it to the end, and I wasn’t offended—no sexism, or racism, or intolerance—I click the Like button. I see it as a marker, a tag. Like I’m a graffiti artist with a can of spray paint; I’ve … Continue reading Like?
The Other Stuff 