On Working
But I can’t get away from this overwhelming desire, a primal need to just sit down and write.
Entries by stepville
In Going to Visit a Friend Who’s Sick
A few days later, at two in the morning, Janet sent me a text. “It’s you in the video.”
Therein Lies your Calling
Yet, every day I still fight. I make connections whenever I can.
Zen and the Art of Treating Yourself
“I slept in the shape of a starfish. I ordered room service.”
A Mother’s Instructions
I’m leaving my kids for a few days. I’m leaving Coraline for pretty much the first time ever. I’m flying out to the East Coast.
The Still, Quiet Voice
If I spent even ten minutes remembering, and writing, later that night when she screamed and fought me over eating or going to bed, I could go back to that place where I meditated on the way her hands looked as she carefully picked up a crab with a yellow plastic shovel.
Here Now
“You’re a great mom,” she said. “You get grumpy, but you just had a baby by yourself. I know it’s hard.”
Finding Christmas
I wish sometimes that this could be Christmas. Quiet mornings, in the glow of lights, and not a build-up to another early morning of opening gifts.
Quiet Moments of Success
I usually allow moments like this to pass. I believe that if I give them attention, I might jinx them in some way.
pour qui
Every word and thought and event seems to shape itself into a beginning middle and end in a perfect 800-word format that I can send off in a pitch.