Notes From the Toolbox
A Signature, a Style, a Voice
My handwriting loops like a cowgirl’s lasso whenever I’ve fallen deep into a story. It starts small and expands until the letters are no longer contained within the lines on the page. Grammar and writing rules are also lost— they vanish first, which is no surprise...
Once You See It, You’ve Got It!
One of the most riveting scenes in film isn’t from Hitchcock and has nothing to do with mysterious identities à la Jason Bourne. The scene is from a movie based on a memoir about chess— Searching for Bobby Fischer by Fred Waitzkin. Don’t Move Until You See It. Those...
Writing from the Toilet Bowl
I’m writing. Two words on the page followed by eight. No telling how much farther I’m going to get because this week has lacked productivity. Monday was great. I finished the last of the singing-arc chapters of Kaitlyn’s story. The emotional momentum and counterpoint...
The Velveteen Pillow
Back in my theatre days, I was given a mask-shaped pillow with the tragic face on one side and the comic face on the other. Sad. Happy. For years, to keep it pristine, I kept it inside the original cellophane. But sometime after my youngest son entered his teens, I...
I Might Be Virginia Woolf- Part 3
A funny thing happened on the way to revising my manuscript in thirteen weeks— Bang the Drum, Toot the Horn— I’ve become spellbound by my protagonist. I’ve always liked her. How could I not, she was, after all, sort of, well— me. Especially in the beginning when I...
Searching for Gatsby
My introduction to F. Scott Fitzgerald was The Great Gatsby. I read it in school like everyone who did their homework. My teacher, Mr. Meltzer (notice how I can recall his name), must’ve led discussions on this famous writer’s themes, style and narration— I remember...
Does This Novel Make Me Look Fat?
I’m fat. You probably wouldn’t agree if you saw me. But it’s how I feel. The truth hit me yesterday when my white jeans didn’t slip on the way they used to, and I feared the zipper wouldn’t zip and the button wouldn’t close. The horror continued today, hence I’ve...
What’s Your Quarantine Revelation?
Last week, my four-year-old granddaughter sent me a picture of herself right before she went outside to social distance. “Do you like wearing your mask?” I say, during our Skype story time chat. “Yeah,” she says. “But if you breathe, it makes you hot, so you have to...
I’m With Woody— Apropos of Nothing
I’m not political. My interest in politics only developed during the 2016 presidential campaign. The only reason that happened was because of the moral crisis our country was facing and has yet to rebound from. I’m not an activist. Although I admire those who are and...
I Might Be Virginia Woolf— Part 2
In my family, the changing of the wall calendar was a ritual. Every December, my mother hunted for the perfect replacement calendar for the upcoming year. Prior to the New Year’s Eve’s midnight feast, she’d set aside at least an hour to transfer the notable...