Blogging All Over The…
PB ReadsSecond Sunday Poetry SeriesJune 9th, 201318 days to go.
PB ReadsRhapsodomancy Reading Series, Good Luck Bar, Los Feliz, CA 7:30pm, At which I will read, see Blogroll Rhapsodomancy link below. Excitement reigns!February 3rd, 2013PB and several other readers take part in Los Angeles' top rated reading series. See you there!
PB Rides!UPDATE: 3 rotations of unicycle pedals on PB's Birthday does not count as riding the unicycle by her birthday. She will now RIDE the unicycle by June 1st, 2013--just in time for summer.June 1st, 20139 days to go.
Written To Date…
Category Archives: Writer’s Angst
As I scrub whatevers at the kitchen sink, thinking about Hadley Richardson because I’m reading The Paris Wife, mostly thinking how wrong the book’s cover is considering its subject, I’m wondering if I’ll ever have a book cover of my own to … Continue reading
Look up. I was looking at Leroy, watching him think about calling everything off–his ears twitched and he swung his head weirdly to the right, because of me—and my Type A procrastination. Look up. I looked up—trees, that house perched precariously … Continue reading
If each of us would only sweep our own doorstep, the whole world would be clean. —Mother Teresa A quote I’ve posted ad nauseam. It’s not easy, focused sweeping. Constant practice is necessary (for me). There is no one I can hire … Continue reading
I stopped typing and froze in the bed office. A voice was in my house. Deep. Half whisper-in-a-frightening-tomb, half ogre-stuck-in-a-well. I set aside the laptop, rose from the bed office chair and peeked into the hall. No one. Except the … Continue reading
Since I forgot to Na on Monday, as I promised myself, and since I didn’t Na on Tuesday due to pressing engagements (Target, the teeth people), upon leaving the stables today I stopped at a No’ridge Starbucks on my way home, hobbling delicately inside, … Continue reading
I forgot to go on Monday. Ummm…And here is a cat.
Next week (because my son resumes PreK after a 2 week spring break) is National PB Sit in a Different Starbucks Daily and Write a (insert expletive) Poem Week. Well, at least monday through thursday. Actually not tuesday because that’s when I … Continue reading
True poets should be chaste, I know, but wherefore should their lines be so? —Catullus (Gaius Valerius, of course…) Of course he loved Lesbia! Sheesh. Get over it. Hopefully he ultimately got over it, IF he wasn’t 30 when he … Continue reading
I was late to retrieve the boy from school because I Face Sucked like a fiend AND watched the latest episode of “Once” on hulu AND in another open hulu tab caught up on the latest episode of “Revenge” WHILE checking … Continue reading
To all rejections: I am building a cathedral. I am building a cathedral. I am building a cathedral. I am building a cathedral. I am building a cathedral. I am building a cathedral. I am building a cathedral. I am … Continue reading
When I’m sick like this (somewhere near the darker side of the middle line between healthy and barely-not-dead), my limbs melted into the mattress, not asleep, though not alert, vaguely hearing my son and husband pretend-Kung-Fu in the living room, my brain distresses … Continue reading
On the eve of my hubbadobubbaboblah birthday: tucked my son into Pre-K, FB’d (i.e. avoided yoga), did yoga, even Superman, even V-ups, edited poems, sighed at the unicycle, edited poems, zoomed the boy to karate testing for his green stripe … Continue reading
This time of year is also, always, about how against all humanly odds, there was enough oil to keep the Menorah lit after the temple in Jerusalem was sacked. And how–well, you know the pitch: let there be light, and … Continue reading
Today, over on Nebula, writer Beth Hull’s website, Colonel Shifty offers up some vital, handy-dandy definitions of publishing terms. Secretly (or not) I am hoping that Colonel Shifty’s next post will be to announce the launch of his gopher T-shirt line–perhaps similar to … Continue reading
It is 197-something and there are cats on the kitchen counter pulling apart the cooked bird with their claws and fangs. It is 199-something and a slobbery Rottweiler mix has hold of a turkey leg and the entire baking pan with turkey … Continue reading
I really don’t think life is about the I-could-have-beens. Life is only about the I-tried-to-do. I don’t mind the failure but I can’t imagine that I’d forgive myself if I didn’t try. —Nikki Giovanni Recently Write Naked posted this quote … Continue reading
Quote potpourri! Quote jambalaya! Quote papier mache! Quote mixed bean salad (with balsamic vinaigrette and BPA-free writing instruments)! There is no need for a writer to eat a whole sheep to be able to tell what mutton tastes like. It … Continue reading
Finally going to read the book. The daily act of writing remains as demanding and maddening as it was before, and the pleasure you get from writing – rare but profound – remains at the true heart of the enterprise. … Continue reading
How do you write? You write, man, you write, that’s how, and you do it the way the old English walnut tree puts forth leaf and fruit every year by the thousands. . . . If you practice an art … Continue reading
When it was decided (When was that again, and by whom?) that we were all supposed to choose between fiction and nonfiction, what was not taken into account was that for some of us truth can never be an absolute, … Continue reading