The Bible is the ancient holy book of my tradition. It’s not a simple book of history and rules. It isn’t dead words on a page. It is a living book, an ongoing story, and as a believer, who am I to limit it? As God said to Job, “Who do you think you are, puny human? I set the universe spinning, and you want to tell me what’s what? Pfffffft.” . . . → Read More: Do you know you’re a bitch?
 If I wanted to do this blogging and writing thing with a bag on my head, I would have had to make that choice at the very beginning. I don’t think I would do it differently even if I had it to do over again. . . . → Read More: Into the Heart of the Thing  Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 3.1 (except it’s less of a part and more of an interlude) We all grow up with rules. I’m not talking about the regular rules that our parents speak aloud – no running in the house; don’t sing at the dinner table; if you wear your tap . . . → Read More: The Ugly Familiar 4: Give Yourself Away Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Some stories are like laundry. The longer you put off telling them, the bigger they grow. This story, the one about my earliest adulthood and my relationship with Jacob and Abbie’s dad, has reached the ceiling, toppled over, and begun to spread across the hall and into the . . . → Read More: The Ugly Familiar 3.1: I Won’t Fade Away This article originally appeared in the Winter, 2010 issue of Brain, Child Magazine. I am reprinting it here because this is a key piece of Carter’s and my history that is missing from No Points for Style.
In the four months since Carter’s birth, I had memorized the shadows’ patterns on . . . → Read More: Love with Teeth Trichotillomania [trik-uh-til-uh–mey-nee-uh] tricho – hair till(ein) – to pluck or pull out mania – madness When I have trouble writing, the cause is usually a story right behind my eyes that’s clogging up the works. Not always; sometimes I just don’t have anything to say, but often, I’m gutless and full of . . . → Read More: Naked Eyes and Angst Two birds with one stone here, folks. First, you’ll know how I decide what to share with you, my lovely readers, because apparently? Some people care (and care deeply!). Second, I’ll have a link I can email to said people when they express their concern about Carter’s lack of privacy. I’ve written on this . . . → Read More: “The time has come,” the woman said, “to talk of bloggy things…” I’ve been hiding in my hole. Do you have a hole? Please tell me that you have a hole. In my hole, I play All For Leyna by Billy Joel over and over again. WTF, right? Unrequited love is not what ails me, but whatever. Sometimes, I have to get in the hole because . . . → Read More: It’s a Crisis of Confidence Party and You’re Invited! If we knew each other’s secrets, what comforts we should find. ~John Churton Collins I chose that quote as a tag line for my blog not because it’s pretty (It IS, but there are prettier ones.), but because it’s what I believe and the reason I write. I believe in the power of truth. . . . → Read More: Apologia There’s the love you feel when you watch your baby sleep and he’s soft and limp, miraculous and sweet-smelling of milk. Then there’s the love that makes it possible to walk that same baby through the house through the fourth straight hour of fussing and crying. That’s love with teeth. Love is when . . . → Read More: There’s love that gives kisses, and there’s love that does dishes.  |
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