The Sad State of the Supermarket Strawberry
I’m worried about the strawberry. It’s too late for the tomato. Its innards were transformed into colorless, flavorless – but easily shippable – pulp decades ago. Which is why I’m concerned about the strawberry. Is it going the way of the tomato? Read more.
The Weekend I Talked — And the Kids Listened
You know your kids have turned into grown-ups when they listen to your advice. I don’t mean take your advice. I mean listen – gently and kindly – as you talk away . . . Read more.
Tulips and Sex — Writing as If Everyone I Know Were Dead
I want to write about tulips today. I don’t want to write about sex. The trouble is, for me, writing about tulips means writing about sex: something about their juicy curves brings erotic metaphors to my particular mind. I had thought that once my mother — and father — were no longer alive and reading over my shoulder, I’d be able to write my heart out, but . . . Read more.
Dead Stuff – Which I Will Be Too One of These Days
The fifth-century Saint Jerome kept a human skull on his desk to remind him of his mortality – memento mori. But if you’re like me and you like to take walks in the woods, you don’t need a skull taking up space on your desk to remind you that sooner or later everything dies, including you. That’s because the woods are full of dead stuff. Read more.
The de Young This Week: Bursting With Art — And Flowers
Art. Bouquets. More art. More bouquets. My idea of a good time. I spent the day yesterday at the annual Bouquets to Art show at the de Young Fine Arts Museum in San Francisco’s Golden Gate Park — joined by two friends who enjoy flowers and art as much as I do. Read more.
You’ve Got the Agent, You’ve Got the Publisher — But Do You Have the Publicist?
You get an idea for a book. You like it a lot. You think people are going to want to read this book. You’re stoked. Then you fret for months and years over how to transform this idea you like so much into a 250-page manuscript that people will actually read. Read more.
My Computer is Dead, Long Live My Omputer
I went away for the weekend, and when I showed up in my writing room on Monday morning my laptop had crashed. “It’s not your fault,” said the computer repair guy. “Computers are machines. Machines break.“
For Wetter, For Drier — I’m Married to California
Basically, there are two kinds of Californian. Those who are delighted by a sunny February day. And those who are dismayed. Jon is one of the latter. You can chart the weather by Jon’s moods. Read more.
Yippee! I Did It — I Finished My Book
At 6:02 p.m. yesterday evening I hit the send button and sent the manuscript for Wrestling With God off to my publisher, Patheos Press. To tell you the truth, I’m very proud of this book. Read more.
Stalking Superman
There he was. In the flesh. Tall and slender and muscled and oh-so-handsome. Sigh. It was Superman. The Man of Steel of my girlhood fantasies. My dream man. Read more.