During the holidays, a message from an old friend popped up in my Facebook feed. It read—with a tinge of regret—that because some people had disparaged the annual Christmas letter, she would not send one out this year. Her Facebook message would have to suffice. I felt sad for her and for those who wouldn't …
Late-blooming geniuses
Have you ever known a bonafide genius? Have you ever aspired to be one? I've been reading a book by Malcolm Gladwell—one of the most innovative writers I've ever come across. The book, What the Dog Saw, is a compilation of essays Gladwell wrote for the New Yorker. In one essay, he asks the question of whether prodigy is …
The fight of the murble-bee
Murble: a cross between garble and mumble. As in: "With the covers over her head, she spoke, but her words were murbled." It is not a mistake. It is a new word. It is the sound I heard and the word I wrote. I invented it. Kindle, however, thinks I'm wrong.* In fact, they keep sending …
The persistence of memory
I've spent the past few weeks going through diaries and scrapbooks that my mother left behind. They are humorous, compelling, revealing. I am getting to know her as a teenager, a college student, a young married woman — the person she was before I was born. In assembling her documents and those of dozens of …
The contradiction of spring
Without a doubt, my favorite season is spring. After a cold and often dank winter, spring begins to tease in February by giving us a significant warming spell. When we kept a garden, this was the time to get early peas in the ground, so that we could be enjoying them by early summer. It …
A hoarder’s cluttered room …
Writing is a study in precision and nowhere is this more important than in the details that swarm around a good story. Details are like the last coats of paint on a new house, the finely sewn collar on a shirt or blouse, the delicate fondant icing on a wedding cake. They must be just right. …
Tiptoeing into the marketplace …
Anyone who knows me, knows I'm not a fan of marketing. In fact, I'm terribly cynical about advertisers and all their tricks to get me to buy their products. Yet ... Yet, I understand the need to stand out in a marketplace that is as crowded as it has ever been. In the book world, …
A master of friendship …
Yesterday I learned that my friend, Sandy, had died. She was older than I was and far less accomplished than most. In fact, she had spent her seven decades as one whom society used to describe as "mentally retarded." She had no advanced degrees, no career, no fame or fortune — all those descriptors we …
My atomic roots …
I grew up with the story of how my dad almost flew on the Enola Gay with Col. Paul Tibbets and the crew of the 509th Composite Group that dropped the bomb on Hiroshima, Japan in August of 1945. Dad ... 509th ... Enola Gay ... Hiroshima ... Tinian ... Almost ... All those words …
The gift of September 11 …
Today's post is an adaptation of a piece I wrote on the 10th anniversary of 9-11. It is worth remembering the day, but it is especially important to remember what happened afterwards. The sky was an exquisite shade of blue that morning. Nothing hinted at the immediate future — or the malevolence that had taken …
