Creative Nonfiction
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‘I’m Nobody.’ You Too?
One of the most interesting tidbits to emerge from my recent dabbling in genealogy is the revelation that Emily Dickinson is my sixth cousin. A few times removed, yes, but we’re cousins, nevertheless. Now that I’ve made this discovery, I feel as if my life finally makes sense. It makes sense that I spent all those hours Continue reading
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My Father’s Heart
During the final year of his life, my father did everything right. By following a strict diet, he lost weight. He exercised daily and avoided stress. He rekindled the romance in his marriage. He looked and seemed to feel healthy. Then one summer morning, a neighbor discovered him lying unconscious on the ground in our Continue reading
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I Just Met My Sister, and Now We’re on a Road Trip Together
My sister drives confidently over the rollercoaster hills and hairpin curves along the road through Cameron. She’s a born West Virginian. The town clings to a slope of the Allegheny range’s shamrock green mountains. Its thousand or so inhabitants shelter themselves in humble houses perched on rough ridges or squatting in ravines. We are here to visit Continue reading
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Vacationing Old
The shuttle bus eased to a stop. As the doors slid open, everyone rushed to deboard. Everyone, that is, except me. I had learned to stay out of the way. By Day Three of a four-parks-in-four-days whirlwind adventure at Disney World, I knew that if I tried to leave whatever conveyance I was on in Continue reading
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The Wizard of Awe
I have lived my entire life in the grip of fear. When artist Georgia O’Keeffe, the Mother of American Modernism, the woman whose decades-long career would transcend conventional art movements of her time, made this startling statement in 1938, I like to imagine that she spoke across time and space directly to me. I’ve been Continue reading
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My Long Overdue Talk with Mom
When your final illness ended and you were gone, I brought your ashes into my home. I placed them in an urn — one that would rest easily on a bookshelf or mantel, one that would be inconspicuous, that would blend in with my other belongings and perhaps go unnoticed by visitors. I decided to Continue reading
Do you write about yourself and your experiences? Do you write about traumatic events in your life? Or, do you struggle to find time and motivation to write?
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