July 22, 2019
Thrown to the Weeds
Last Sunday, I picked wild black raspberries in my backyard. The berries were tiny, dark, and prickled with miniscule seeds. Sweet. As I plucked berries from the bush, I thought […]
September 28, 2017
Under the Surface
My maternal grandfather was a coal miner. The job killed him, or at least I once believed it did based on the shaky family lore I heard as a child. […]
May 27, 2016
Books Fall Apart
Over the last week, loose pages from The Bluest Eye have been appearing outside my house. Page 156 in the front garden. Page 147 caught under the chain-link fence. Page […]
August 3, 2010
The Sewanee Writers’ Conference: Dig Yourself
The 2010 Sewanee Writers’ Conference ended just over a week ago; I’m back in Ann Arbor, having Honda’d my way through Kentucky and Ohio. Still, I have all of these […]
July 20, 2010
The Sewanee Writers’ Conference, at the Midpoint
A few days ago, in his Sewanee Writers’ Conference craft talk, Richard Bausch said, “A writer is a bookish person.” (He also praised the value of exposition — reversing the […]