Tag Archives: Memoir

No breaks (from a plane)

Posted on March 23, 2019 by

There were times I felt like I had to write, I had the impulse, to save the moment. I thought I could just throw my arms out and surround it, I could throw my line in the water and bring … Continue reading →

Posted in identity, prose, travel, writing | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , | 16 Comments

LGBTQIA, the new strong password

Posted on March 11, 2019 by

I took Lily to her LGBTQIA support group for kids with mental and behavioral issues, dropped her in the lobby with her phone, then drove to Bellevue for a quiet drink. I sat at the bar with a shrimp cocktail, … Continue reading →

Posted in parenting, writing | Tagged , , , , , , | 18 Comments

The corrections

Posted on November 20, 2018 by

No matter how much I worried I was growing apart from my kids (or vice versa), there was still time. I picked Charlotte up after work and asked where she wanted to go for dinner. We drove to Issaquah and … Continue reading →

Posted in humor, identity, parenting | Tagged , , , , , , , , | 17 Comments

The rhythm of trees falling down

Posted on November 10, 2018 by

Twelve days in a row writing the same marketing copy for a project we started in July that was supposed to end in September. Sitting at my desk in the bedroom while the sun set reading it a final time … Continue reading →

Posted in writing | Tagged , , , , , | 18 Comments

‘Wax and wane’

Posted on October 30, 2018 by

By the time we got to the end of October I was done with it. The Halloween decals on the windows, the witches and skulls…it seemed to go on forever, like it should have been over by now. The skeleton … Continue reading →

Posted in death, writing | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , | 14 Comments

Companion Piece

Posted on October 28, 2018 by

October 28, 2018 (Sunday) The moody look of the freeway heading east toward the foothills with the rain coming on and the color draining out, now down to yellow. Fog and clouds over the dark mountain contours. Lily and her … Continue reading →

Posted in prose, writing | Tagged , , , , , , , , , | 16 Comments
Posted on October 7, 2018 by

October 7, 2018 (Sunday) In the den with the fruit flies on the couch I lay listening to the tic of the clock, the dog shifting, the sound of a jet outside, and nothing else worth noting. We are each … Continue reading →

Posted in Memoir, prose, writing | Tagged , , , , , | 14 Comments