Try The Pull of Gravity for a contemporary spin
Of Mice and Men on your kids’ summer reading list? Try “warming them up” or following up with THE PULL OF GRAVITY for a “choice” read. And maybe this little essay below written with the help of my friend, and extraordinary teacher Paul W. Hankins, might help.
BRIDGING THE GAP BETWEEN THE PULL OF GRAVITY AND OF MICE AND MEN:
People often ask why I incorporated John Steinbeck’s OF MICE AND MEN into my contemporary young adult novel, THE PULL OF GRAVITY. …
9/11, Pandemic & Shared Trauma: Coping with Our History through Story
This September 11th marks a staggering 20 years since many of us watched in horror as the iconic twin towers fell, and our nation was under attack.
Many of us still grieve the shock and trauma of that day even while students in desks become ever more removed, not yet born in 2001, and, thus, without any first-hand understanding.
Now those students are experiencing shared trauma of their own: constant gun drills and mass shootings, political unrest, and, yes, even quarantine and a pandemic.
How do we cope with…
That time you came to visit and
we walked the streets of Boston
me in my new
drop-waist denim blue dress
(one of the few
pieces of clothing I pine for
At Newbury Street,
we meandered in and out of all my
me, so happy to share my
you, with more money because you’d
I have a love/hate relationship with social media, especially twitter, and the hate side keeps gaining ground. It’s not just the usual: the ugly politics, the righteous opinionated rants, the stupidity and falsehoods. The endless gifs and memes (ok, fine, I like those!)
For a writer, it’s the goddamned comparison.
And, every day, there it is, right in my face:
The Thief of Joy.
The comparison to other artists, other writers, that I can take. That is bearable. I’m always wishing for their success.
The comparison to — or within — the industry — from my very publishing…
The least I can do is write you a poem
I find myself in the city,
in my building (in this particular
I have the keys,
don’t have to ask for them, use the
a small one to collect mail that
take the elevator up (which I rarely did)
let myself in the apartment door
but inside are all
Still, I make myself
Just another writer trying to stay afloat in a sea of words. Author of several novels. Wannabe mermaid. Mother. Trying to age gracefully with no grace in sight.