Yesterday was Madeleine L'Engle's birthday. Her work was formative for me as a young girl, first as a reader (her most famous main character's name is Meg, after all), and then as a writer. My first short story when I was young was about time travel. Her characters and storylines gave me hope. She wrote... Continue Reading →
Things I Have Learned
This has been a period of non-linear learning, picking up bits of knowledge like rocks on the sand. They're unrelated except for their origins, washed to my feet on the waves. I have one favorite pair of pants. I wear them every day. I don't care what I eat for lunch, as long as it... Continue Reading →
Imposters and Discomfort
I've spent a lot of time lately with creative people; hundreds of writers at a conference, and in my writers group, and in the seminar I'm attending for teaching artists. And, of course, everyone I work with at Multnomah Arts Center is an artist in their own right; clay and steel and paint and dance... Continue Reading →
Bookends
Dear Mr. Russo, I attended your panel discussion yesterday at Wordstock, and talked briefly with you afterward at the book signing. I am so grateful you took the time to come to Portland, because in addition to the fact that you are a great and well-loved American writer, you were one of my creative writing... Continue Reading →