Category Archives: personal essays
Teaching Rape
The first day of the first time I taught Lolita by Vladimir Nabokov to an AP English class at Berkeley High School, I stood in front of the room reading chapter one aloud, the one that starts
Teaching Rape
The first day of the first time I taught Lolita by Vladimir Nabokov to an AP English class at Berkeley High School, I stood in front of the room reading chapter one aloud, the one that starts
wallpaper
On the home tour, John and I stood holding hands and looking at a wall covered in splotches and splatters of plaster so nubby and thick it cast shadows in the late afternoon light. “What is that?” I wondered. “Did
wallpaper
On the home tour, John and I stood holding hands and looking at a wall covered in splotches and splatters of plaster so nubby and thick it cast shadows in the late afternoon light. “What is that?” I wondered. “Did
Grizzly Peak
“It’s getting really late so we should go soon.” “I’m almost ready, mom.” “I don’t know where Megan lives, so you’ll have to be the navigator.” “I said okay.” I stand at the open door watching my daughter stuffing things
Grizzly Peak
“It’s getting really late so we should go soon.” “I’m almost ready, mom.” “I don’t know where Megan lives, so you’ll have to be the navigator.” “I said okay.” I stand at the open door watching my daughter stuffing things
feather, finger, pen
The other day my 75-year-old father came for a visit. We went to pick up my daughter Gwyn from elementary school and then to a café where he treated her to a hot chocolate. Gwyn sits in her chair, swinging
feather, finger, pen
The other day my 75-year-old father came for a visit. We went to pick up my daughter Gwyn from elementary school and then to a café where he treated her to a hot chocolate. Gwyn sits in her chair, swinging
Barrington Hall
The noise was big enough to bust through the front door of my apartment building, stomp down the long, dark hall, pound up two dusty carpeted flights of stairs, and wedge itself under the door of my studio apartment. It
Barrington Hall
The noise was big enough to bust through the front door of my apartment building, stomp down the long, dark hall, pound up two dusty carpeted flights of stairs, and wedge itself under the door of my studio apartment. It
time bomb
The other day in my writing group we had an interesting discussion about embarrassment, one I’m surprised we hadn’t had before considering the fact that if you have a group, those are the people who will see your writing at
time bomb
The other day in my writing group we had an interesting discussion about embarrassment, one I’m surprised we hadn’t had before considering the fact that if you have a group, those are the people who will see your writing at
yellow wallpaper
On the home tour, John and I stood holding hands, looking at a wall covered in splotches and splatters of plaster so thick and knubby it cast shadows in the late afternoon light. “What is that?” I wondered. “Did something
yellow wallpaper
On the home tour, John and I stood holding hands, looking at a wall covered in splotches and splatters of plaster so thick and knubby it cast shadows in the late afternoon light. “What is that?” I wondered. “Did something
being a bunny
Los Angeles: “It’s mostly full of nonsense and delusion and egomania. They think they’ll be young and beautiful forever, even though most of them aren’t even young and beautiful now.” –Christopher Hitchens In 1986 I skipped off the airplane into
being a bunny
Los Angeles: “It’s mostly full of nonsense and delusion and egomania. They think they’ll be young and beautiful forever, even though most of them aren’t even young and beautiful now.” –Christopher Hitchens In 1986 I skipped off the airplane into
one perfect ornament
The day after Thanksgiving all four of us went to the lot and walked up and down each aisle, holding our hands out to collect the scent of the needles, breathing deep that piney resin. Three of us fell in
one perfect ornament
The day after Thanksgiving all four of us went to the lot and walked up and down each aisle, holding our hands out to collect the scent of the needles, breathing deep that piney resin. Three of us fell in
girl screwed by her own naïveté
–this is a revision I’ve been working on in my writing group. please excuse if you’ve already seen it– When I saw the painting for the first time I thought it must be a fake. It hung on a small wall
girl screwed by her own naïveté
–this is a revision I’ve been working on in my writing group. please excuse if you’ve already seen it– When I saw the painting for the first time I thought it must be a fake. It hung on a small wall
being seen (or a swan dive into a shallow pool)
The instructions went something like this: The first row goes first. The people stand up, walk single file onto the stage, stop, and turn to face the rest of the group. They stand at the front edge of the stage
being seen (or a swan dive into a shallow pool)
The instructions went something like this: The first row goes first. The people stand up, walk single file onto the stage, stop, and turn to face the rest of the group. They stand at the front edge of the stage
nest
(…this post is continued from here…) Finding a place that really looks and feels like home doesn’t always happen. Most of us make do with the place we’re in but I imagine everyone must have a dream home, a perfect
nest
(…this post is continued from here…) Finding a place that really looks and feels like home doesn’t always happen. Most of us make do with the place we’re in but I imagine everyone must have a dream home, a perfect
naked
The other day at the bookstore, a man brings a stack of items to the register. He’s jabbering intensely about the weather and fiddling with the buttons on his jacket when I notice the P*****y Magazine. The girl on the
naked
The other day at the bookstore, a man brings a stack of items to the register. He’s jabbering intensely about the weather and fiddling with the buttons on his jacket when I notice the P*****y Magazine. The girl on the
good looker
In bed one night, John is lying next to me watching something on his laptop, something with explosions and car chases and pithy dialogue, and I’m watching comedy. We do this a lot– tandem watching, an attempt at togetherness that
good looker
In bed one night, John is lying next to me watching something on his laptop, something with explosions and car chases and pithy dialogue, and I’m watching comedy. We do this a lot– tandem watching, an attempt at togetherness that
love and money
When I saw this film clip of the recent stunt in which Banksy, who’s doing a much-hyped artist’s residency on the streets of New York this month and whose name is being tooted and trumpeted by every loud voice, set
love and money
When I saw this film clip of the recent stunt in which Banksy, who’s doing a much-hyped artist’s residency on the streets of New York this month and whose name is being tooted and trumpeted by every loud voice, set
forgotten
(…) Is there a sticky residue marking the place where you first fell in love? What if someone died there or cut themselves and bled all over or broke a bone? Does trauma leave a trace? If you lived in a
forgotten
(…) Is there a sticky residue marking the place where you first fell in love? What if someone died there or cut themselves and bled all over or broke a bone? Does trauma leave a trace? If you lived in a
girl in the hat 