My entire ten years of life on earth was spent keeping people from fighting with one another. “Not in front of the kid” were the famous words I heard. Grandma told me one time that I was an angel sent by God to help heal the family. None of my uncles nor my grandfather liked it much when my grandmother talked like that.… Continue Reading
People who had childhoods like mine did so comfortably numb. It was normal. It was all I ever knew. But here’s something I didn’t put in the book: in high school (after I got away from my father) I had friends who lived inside the foster care system. I used to go to their homes and hang out after school sometimes, because when I was little, I used to fantasize about being taken away and put into foster care. I knew it would be so much better.… Continue Reading
guiri (spanish): a foreigner, a tourist, usually a white person On Thursday nights here, I used to run an English language trivia which suffered middling attendance on account of I was not so good at properly calibrating the difficulty of the questions. The place where I hosted was and is called La Sra Pop. The staff… Continue Reading
In Romania they had a word for this feeling of not quite belonging and feeling nostalgic for something maybe you ain’t really experienced and this great longing feeling—dor. We don’t have a word for that here in the Deep South. It’s just a lifestyle here.… Continue Reading
I clung to the hope these people brought into my life: hope for a future full of grace and dignity; hope for a future with endless possibilities and knowledge at my fingertips; and hope for a life beyond poverty and pain—that included endless mounds of chocolate and cups of Earl Grey. … Continue Reading
Alex sighs. He is decades younger than Dave and not crippled by chemo and pill addiction and teens and trucks. On this day, as every day, he is not prepared to throw down over a breach of club rules. … Continue Reading
“O Father! – chiefly known to me by Thy rod – mortal or immortal, here I die”
H. Melville “Moby Dick”… Continue Reading
So sheepishly you swung your skull to headbutt me we wound up kissing. Briefly but that happened, don’t deny it. I tried to wink for the audience but your tears weighed down my lashes. … Continue Reading
“They’re playing with a stacked deck,” he’d grouse. “Meanwhile, I’m getting dealt noth-ing but jokers.”… Continue Reading
Why, then, is it so grotesque to imagine writing about writers living lives and writing? I’ll tell you. It’s because no one wants to read about writers living lives and writing, least of all writers, who are the last readers. I’m told.… Continue Reading