46: A Journal
Here’s what I forgot this week: The name of one of my favorite students, the name of that Carol Shields book I love, the name of that Willa Cather novel I love, the details of a story I read, just two days after I read it. This last failure was a real problem; I forgot the details while I was meeting with the student-author to discuss the story.
My sister and I step briskly out of the greengrocer to get away from the men in line behind us who have told us, in great detail, what they’d like to do to us, where they intend to put certain parts of their bodies.
My Son’s Internet Rendezvous
I took my 13-year-old boy across the country to meet a girl he knew from “Minecraft”—and it was totally worth it.
Fiction Writers Review
What’s funny in fiction–and what’s not.
The Dangerous Act of Writing
Her boyfriend was very intense. I know, because he’d been my boyfriend before he’d been hers. This was at Yale in the early eighties
The Writer’s Chronicle
Having a useful artistic preoccupation is one thing, failing to move forward is another.
New England Review
When she was young, mothers—or her mother, at least—would speak of those bad girls, presumably pregnant, who left home at the first opportunity, but Monica wasn’t waiting that long.
The Revived Art of the Toy Theatre
Sometime during the night of December 2, an intruder entered the Theatrical Print Warehouse.
I Should Let You Go
And what had the cousins expected, back when they agreed to put Vaclav Havel’s press secretary up for a month?
A Wedding Story
Rachel didn’t have any memory of chocolate eggs but here was one now.