These kids have ripped me open in the most painful, fascinating, delightful way, and it’s given me a strength I didn’t know I had: learning to be OK with what’s raw and unfinished and uncertain — both as it makes an appearance in my mirror and as my boys experience it for themselves.
I just finished re-reading* Are You There God? It’s Me, Margaret in the context of a manuscript I’m working on in which the speaker confides in and seeks guidance from an alter ego named Gertie. I’m not 100% convinced I can pull it off, but I’m following it where it goes and using my writing journals to get me there.
Except for Arielle Greenberg’s I Live in the Country & Other Dirty Poems (which I LOVED and hope to write about at some point), the “reading books cover-to-cover” list hasn’t included poetry. Here are the fiction and CNF books that have been on my mid-pandemic reading list.
How does Zucker convey such emotion while deploying such sparse, well, emotion? In portraying the flatness of love (habitual) and life (deflated), how does she gut us like she does?
Look on the bright side, I still have my sense of humor. The bad news for the sun-will-come-out-tomorrow crowd is that it’s a dry, mostly dark and humorless humor; I’m a Yankee through and through.
A friend calls this “writing weather.” I guess that’s one way to get through dark, cold, snowy winter. Willie Nelson helps. Mimosas, too.
RANDOM THOUGHTS FOR JANUARY 2021 (a pandemic diary entry for Month 11 of The Social Distancing)