Tuesday, March 11th, 2008
Every holiday season, I take a name (or two) off those anonymous giving trees in the mall. The tags left behind, untaken, still hanging from the branches…. Oh man. My heart breaks.
Until I saw this page from my 2001 notebook, I’d forgotten all about Zenia. I wonder how she’s doing these days. She’d be nine years old now. I hope she’s safe and happy.
Thursday, February 28th, 2008
When I was in eighth grade I had a swatch. Actually, I had two: This white one on the right and this one with the mirror face. My best friend and I nicknamed the latter the s(not)watch.
There was almost nothing in this world that could strike greater terror into the heart of my eighth grade self than the possibility of sulking the halls of Central Regional Middle School totally oblivious to a major nostril-dangler. Hence, the miracle of the s(not)watch. I checked the s(not)watch so often that my classmates might have assumed that I was preoccupied with punctuality when, in fact, I was just really, really paranoid about boogers.
Anyway, I hadn’t thought about the s(not)watch in years. That is, until this week…
Wednesday, February 27th, 2008
Do yourself a favor and get a copy of You Know Where To Find Me by Rachel Cohn, one of the best writers for readers of any age. Period. This book is darker than others, but stunning and totally real. There is not a false note. Not one.
Thursday, December 13th, 2007
Anyone who has heard me speak about writing knows that I’m very big on the concept of free-writing in a journal. Write without thinking too much about it. Write without censoring yourself. Write and write and write without worrying about whether it will turn into a story or a chapter or anything. When I conduct creative writing classes, I often engage my students in a timed free-writing exercise, during which everyone in the class–myself included–writes and writes on a given subject.
Yesterday, when I was scanning pages from the next notebook to be used for the (retro)blog, I came across this in-class writing exercise. The topic was: Winter. I wrote about my participation in the Rosie’s ‘Robics Christmas Spectacular. Note the lapses in grammar, spelling and coherence.
Thursday, December 13th, 2007
Anyone who has heard me speak about writing knows that I’m very big on the concept of free-writing in a journal. Write without thinking too much about it. Write without censoring yourself. Write and write and write without worrying about whether it will turn into a story or a chapter or anything. When I conduct creative writing classes, I often engage my students in a timed free-writing exercise, during which everyone in the class–myself included–writes and writes on a given subject.
Yesterday, when I was scanning pages from the next notebook to be used for the (retro)blog, I came across this in-class writing exercise. The topic was: Winter. I wrote about my participation in the Rosie’s ‘Robics Christmas Spectacular. Note the lapses in grammar, spelling and coherence.
Wednesday, December 5th, 2007
So yesterday I had my annual physical. I will spare you the details. (I’m healthy.) However, my doctor did give me some shocking, perhaps life -changing news:
I HAVE A DEVIATED SEPTUM.
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