I have been reading Bret Lott’s Before We Get Started, his memoir on writing. In it, he hits home on one central idea: that he knows nothing. Nothing. What he has is years of writing experience where he figured out that he has to let his stories be what they are, to get out of the way so the story can reveal itself. He emphasizes paying attention, but ultimately to humble yourself to knowing what he knows, what you know, is nothing. It's an idea that I’m more and more willing to accept – that …
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Lent and Imperfection
Lent creeps up on me every year. The other day, I walked into the grocery store and saw a sign for a sale on shrimp. Just in time for Mardi Gras, the sign read. ‘Huh,’ I thought. Then I checked the date and realized that, yes, it must be about that time. I can never remember anymore, not since we moved back north away from Mobile, Alabama, where Mardi Gras originated and where you can barely get through the streets of downtown in February because of all the parades. It was easy to remember back …
When You Bring Things Out into the Light
I haven’t written anything in over a week. I was afraid this was going to happen, that I’d declare that I was writing again and not be able to write. I’m afraid I’d have something to say and be too scared to say it. I’m afraid that no one will care. I’m afraid to get into it – the space in my head and heart where my writing comes from – and not be able to get out. And all these fears swirl around and around until I can barely think, let alone write. I keep telling myself to just write and …
Let’s Start Over
I woke up late, I should say early. I rolled over at 3:30 a.m., glanced at the clock, and thought, ‘I still have about three more hours to sleep.’ Then I laid there, listening to my breath, trying to put off thoughts about what I forgot to do yesterday: take library books back, post on Instagram, send a birthday card. My husband got up for work at 4 o’clock, and I spread out in the bed, hoping to find a bit of comfort so I could lull myself back to sleep. I kept hearing noises – tiptoeing, …
Trying and Failing
A little voice wakes me at 5:45 a.m.: “Mom, can I lay with you?” He doesn’t know what time it is and neither do I. I pull back the sheet and he climbs up, tucks his head into my chest and sucks his thumb. I peek at the clock, then smell his head. Some mornings, I wake this early on my own, but today this feels especially dark and early. He whispers: “Will you put me in my bed?” We both climb out and I take his hand. It’s dark and we try to walk side-by-side down the stairs, but I have to go …