Because all the #MeToo’s has me wanting to remind women, you can tell your story and it can be healing. There was a day A day she began To crave the destruction Of hands raised in fury Of jagged edged words Of nostrils flaring over thin lips There was a day A day she decided To… Continue reading There Was a Day
By eight years old, I was already skilled in the art of fetching my stepfather a drink. Not yet tall enough to reach the large glasses on the top shelf, or the liquor cabinet above the stove, I’d hoist myself onto the counter. Next I’d grab a plastic tumbler from the first cupboard, one of those ringed by four smart rows of penguins marching neatly round. A few steps of my bare feet across counter-top brought me to the highest cabinet where a bottle of Seagram’s 7 always fronted a handful of options.
Ya’ll, I love the spotlight. Really. I’m all about a captive audience. Drop me down in front of a classroom. Doesn’t matter if it’s a 50 minute schedule or a 3 hour period, I’ll have plenty to say. Shoot, I’ll probably run over and get checked by the bell. And, O, social media! Four hundred… Continue reading An Audience of One
Do you remember that old game on Sesame Street? They’d display four images on the screen while they played the sang, “One of these things is not like the other. One of these things just doesn’t belong.” I loved that game as a child. And no wonder, even as an adult I like finding patterns… Continue reading Zombie Sightings
At 18, living alone in a new city, there was a day I decided to wear only red. The color would be my brand, my hallmark, my calling card. In a strange new place, where I was as of yet anonymous, I could choose to become anyone, anything. I chose red. I visited dozens of… Continue reading A Softer Shade of Red
An update for those of you who read my Open Letter to Beth Moore: I’m going to the Lit Writer’s Conference after all! I don’t know if my letter played a part, but they moved the conference to a larger venue in Houston and opened registration back up to the wait-listed women. As if that… Continue reading I’m Going to Lit!
“No te preocupas,” Mara assured her husband as she eased the elaborately carved wooden door shut behind her, “I’m just going to take a walk. I need to think.” Think. That’s all she’d done for six days and she still couldn’t make up her mind. Mara wandered towards the shore line. She wasn’t even tempted… Continue reading The Invitation