Memoirous

Remember back in the day when certain detergents included benefits for the housewife—like a glass. Really you might be thinking— glass? Somehow they didn’t break and cut off the tips of fingers. There used to be all kinds of incentives or bonuses to purchases, that had nothing to do with each other. Wash your clothes and drink a glass of wine!? It wasn’t always Cracker Jacks that came with a prize inside, but also boxes of cereal. Not sure how big these boxes were but there would be books, airplanes to build, fannypacks, towels!!?? You used to be able to “collect” a whole set of tableware just by filling up at the gas station. My parents were too chintzy to buy any of the stuff for us kids. There were four of us. And of course you couldn’t get for one without getting something for all. So it was out of the question. That’s why when Aunt Mart and Uncle Mike took me for a week or two in the summer it was so GREATTTT. I would be the only kid. After picking me up in Dayton

In The History of Great Things Elizabeth Crane has done the miraculous. She has brought her deceased mother back to have a conversation. Together they tell a story. Is it fiction or memoir? Well, they even argue about this. As mothers and daughters often do, they have intersectional “talks” about what may or may not have happened. Things get especially heated when Betsy is planning her wedding to Ben. Mom wants to know why Betsy selects to include some details and leave others out—a question many memoirists struggle with—how do I keep it real without hurting others or bringing up something better left unsaid/unwritten. Not everything is grist for the mill. Where upon the mother reminds her daughter: YOU SAID THIS WASN’T A MEMOIR. It is a kind of memoir. One with all those souls looking over your shoulder, some with their own questions, and their own perspectives on how it all went down. A kind of Spoon River Anthology memoir-ish book. My own contribution to

There was this one time when I was eight or nine years old that I applied to be a go-go dancer. Maybe it was the boots. The go-go dancers on TV got to wear shiny patent leather knee-high boots, their long hair swaying as they moved. I called clubs that advertised in the newspaper classifieds. Girls! Girls! Girls! One man asked me if I had experience. My mother put a stop to my plans when strangers called the house asking for me. At the time it seemed so unfair. I could see myself in one of those cages.

Meta is an odd word; it is all about me. Self-referential. And, we do it in the subtlest of ways. Right when I’m enjoying a work of fiction I get a glimmer, a suggestion, that this book is all about the author. It is likely their story. At this blog I’ve reviewed Aleksandar Hemon’s short stories, Love and Obstacles and Lily Tuck’s Liliane —all supposedly fiction, but both hovering on the edge of autobiography. With Our Souls at Night by Kent Haruf and The History of Great Things by Elizabeth (Betsy!) Crane we are easily clued in. The author actually references themselves. In Our Souls at Night the main characters talk over the morning newspaper while at breakfast and mention that that one writer, his latest novel is being made into a play. She’d enjoyed the last production the playhouse did of his work and now it looks like they are launching another. “He could write a book about us. How would you like that?”—she asks. Louis replies to her,   “I don’t want

Here is another contest you can enter mined from Cathy's Comps & Calls . 30th Apr A monthly competition. You have to write up to 2000 words inspired by the prompt. VOUCHER/OTHER https://greywolfepublishing.submittable.com/submit There is NO entry fee. It doesn't cost to play, people! Monthly Writing Contest   For 2015 we're focusing on honing our writing skills with som exercises from Fiction Writer's Workshop, by Josip Novakovich .  Each month, we’ll post a creative writing prompt which will challenge your skills in a particular area of the writing craft.  The prompts require a little more contemplation and development this year.  So, your task is to write up to 2,000 words about each prompt.  Prizes will be awarded each month for the winning entry. We must have a minimum of three (3) contest entries each month in order to award a prize.  T

What I forgot to say about going to Grand Rapids for the Festival of Faith & Writing . Is that I'll be riding my bike back. Approximately 225 miles. The first day will be Grand Rapids to Kalamazoo to stay one night with friends. Then a wild camp along the lake after the Kal-Haven trail. Then Dunewoods Campground outside of Michigan City, then home on a number of connecting? bike paths. I'm so looking forward to riding, sleeping outside, cooking over my catfish can de-natured alcohol stove . To see little flowers carpeting a field or wake up to birdsong. Yessss. What I meant to say is--keep me kn your thoughts. This will be my 3rd attempt to complete this journey. One other time a girlfriend and I attempted to cycle around the lake and only got as far as Saugatuck and in 2014 I camped out in Warren Woods and awoke to 3 inches of fresh snow on the ground. It had gotten down to 23 degrees the night before. The wind off the lake was brutal. My husband came and got me in

I'll be gone starting 4/13 to Grand Rapids for the Festival of Faith and Writing. I cannot express at this blog how much this conference has meant to me through the years (held every 2 years). I believe I've been to all but one of the festivals. From the website: The Festival of Faith and Writing began in 1990 as an exploration of the communities made and served by religious writing. Since its inception, the Festival has brought both new and established talent to speak about a variety of issues related to religion, faith, ethics, justice, writing, music, community, and more. The Festival has welcomed to Calvin more than 13,000 attendees and hundreds of renowned speakers, including Maya Angelou, John Updike, Yann Martel, Elie Wiesel, Marilynne Robinson, Donald Hall, Eugene Peterson, Katherine Paterson, Anne Lamott, Kathleen Norris, Kate DiCamillo, Luci Shaw, and many more. It is one of the most generous conferences I've been to in the sense of relationships. P

I’ve discovered a new website for contests and calls for submissions. Comps & Calls by Cathy . Every month Cathy puts up a fresh batch of journals both print and online where you can submit—either flash, poetry, essay or fiction. Here is a great way to take the inspiration or boot in the butt of prompts and come up with a flash. 15th Apr Story up to 500 words, including the words ‘happiness’, ‘mug’ and ‘converter’. PAYING http://www.mashstories.com/competition/ The nice thing about Cathy’s blog is that many of the calls PAY for work: MASH competition aims to spot rock star quality storytellers. We like innovative ideas, but we are not keen on too many rules. Our competition rules are simple. Every three months, three random objects are selected from a randomly gathered list. Writers are invited to incorporate them into  a short, sensible and convincing story. $100 for the winning story! All shortlisted stories are published on our website, and Mash Club

Been working on this for awhile, the state I've been in lately: Doctor-Prescribed, Number 1 Once or twice daily, Levitra Over an extended period, Victoza I am confronted by mortality, Januvia Postmenopausal women are at high-risk, Boniva For fracture, Prolia, The urgent need to go, Viagra Sudden tightening in the stomach, Humira Tired restless legs, Orencia Insomnia, disrupted sleep, Lunestra Make more tears, Jublia Shortness of breath, Spiriva Heartburn, heartache, Ranexa Overall achingness, Zetia Do not take, Lyrica If agitation or changes in mood occur, Cymbalta If your depression worsens, Truvada Or if you have suicidal thoughts, Dulera Or if you experience hallucinations, paranoia, or confusion, Latuda In some rare cases, death, Avandia Stop and seek help immediately, Nyulasta Is there a cure for all that ails, Namenda This lonely broken heart?

I’ve been going through a dry period. Tell me this is normal!! I’ve been someone who could dash off a short story a week, about a dozen flashes, along with 3 blog posts. I kept a critique group busy every 2 weeks reading my stuff. Now I’m lucky to hold a single thought in my head for 20 minutes. I’d like to blame the Internet because secretly I’m afraid it is a sign I’m growing old. And I’m petrified of aging. It is all about the mystery. I’ve never been here before, each new year, each new day and I have all these questions. If only I knew what the future looked like, then I might not be so afraid. But we don’t have that luxury. I need to be able to ride my bike, write stories, find enjoyment in reading, meeting new people. I live in a building with an elevator, so I’m okay with letting go of climbing stairs. In fact, lately, I stare up the stairs and then walk around the corner to the elevator bank. Speaking of banks—I got my first perk of aging! I have quit

This is for me as well as (both) my blog readers. There’s a piece I’ve been collecting snatches of words and phrases and now need to knit together into a short—or whatever it calls out to become. Your retreat place. Your vacation spot. That place of surrender. Where you can be your truest self. Most relaxed.  Is it somewhere your parents took you every year as a child? We went to an old motor court called Wild Waves on the shores of Lake Erie—every summer there was a spectacular fish die-off as the lake was under a great deal of pollution stress in the 1970s. The old log cabins harbored spiders in the wood, the walls crawled with them. The cement dock was crumbling, every winter eroded another chunk of it. The metal Adirondack chairs were one color: rust red, with hints of a former palette shining through. Yet, in my mind, I travel there all the time, checking images on the Internet to remind me of that part of my past. A past that was past even back then. Or did you v