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Union of future literary titans
Twenty-four years ago this June, Chris and I set up our first shared apartment. Possessions: a double bed my mother purchased (“don’t tell your father”); one brown vinyl couch with no rear legs picked up off the street, so if you sat down on a humid August night in shorts you wouldn’t be able…
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I’m sorry I’m abandoning you all
All it takes is a wobble of ankle or attention— the other racers fly ahead and I’ll never catch up. This is a stupid way to approach a cherry blossom. With fear, I mean. What if, I ask my spouse, I waste this gift of two weeks? I will have betrayed my family. Counting games…
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Living with a writer
“Page two is a verb tense tour de force,” he says, and I puff right up. I’m pretty new at creative nonfiction as a genre, but prose storytelling is his mastery zone. Who knew the personal essay was all about verb tenses? Transitions, yeah, understood they were trouble. And bending accuracy for elegance (we sometimes…