So what if sobriety made him coherent. His mind was a refuse bin for advertising concepts. Blasphemy, plain and simple. Although she wanted to talk about it, she wouldn’t for fear a confrontation would send him back to the gin with a virulence. Continue reading
I wanted to write the book that I’d been looking for my entire life and never found. Continue reading
My novel has shifted to become its own creature—it’s no longer something that belongs only to me; now that it’s out there it’s finding a shape of its own. Continue reading
I am such a private person that as I was writing, if I had allowed myself to think about other people reading my work, I would have had to stop. But now, I just have to put that anxiety aside. And trust that baring my soul on the page is no different from doing so on stage. Continue reading
By Susan Sechrist
“This is orthogonality at its core—going back to the beginning where new intersections are born, watching what unfolds from those unique moments of coming together, what curve or shape emerges and how those multiple shapes morph together.” Continue reading
by Shoba Viswanathan
“I never thought I had led a life worthy of memoir. I thought memoir and autobiography were reserved for great lives….” Continue reading
“We all know what it feels like to feel like something less than what we’re supposed to be.” Continue reading
Bloom 