The Cave of My Unconscious
In my unconscious exists a cave where I often hide out. The cave has been there forever, but I only recently brought a detailed image back with me when I woke.
Los Angeles Writing Retreat
Thanks to two kind, clever, funny, generous, and inspiring friends, Daniel and I lived in a house in Silver Lake. Our Los Angeles Writing Retreat. We worked on our manuscripts with a view of the mountains. Our kitchen possessed a…
Remembering the Dead
What impressed me the most in Milan was the sprawling, art-infused graveyard known as Cimitero Monumentale di Milano. Here are my best cemetery pictures and favorite grief quotes in honor of the dead.
To Tell or Not to Tell: Speaking about Work in Progress
Some authors refuse to speak about their work in progress. They don’t want to contaminate their fragile ideas with other people’s opinions. Or they fear colleagues might steal their plans before they can finish the book. Or they don’t want…
Thick Bleeding Numbers
The young woman for whom I was writing down my number stayed kind. She didn’t question my inability to accomplish a task so simple or judge me for my incompetence.
Unfocused: Secretly Sad
My mother’s illness and death have left me dangling. After we buried her in July, my life went on, yet I felt paused. Grief consumed my energy and emotions overwhelmed me when I least expected it.
