April brings a lot of beauty. This month rings in celebrations and commemorations of jazz, kindness to animals—and poetry. To mark the month, I wanted to share some of my favorite verses. See what you think. Then send me your favorites, too. Please! “To those born later,” Bertolt Brecht Hatred, even of meanness,Contorts the features.Anger,Continue reading “Three Verses for National Poetry Month”
Photo by Gloria Graham via Wikimedia Commons Diane di Prima was among the famous Beat poets—but somehow, being the only woman, didn’t become famous until about a month ago. No need to ask why you’ve never heard of her. Ever read the Beats? I have—since the Beats feature in my autobiographical novel, 44 Horatio Street,Continue reading “Finally, a Feminist Beat Story”
I have some unusual Women’s History Month advice: Skip the theory and turn to Simone de Beauvoir’s fiction instead.
All of us who write, act, dance—create!—are familiar with the labyrinth that opens up under our feet when a project is finished and sent out for response. Currently, that’s the space where I find myself: I am waiting for agents to read my new book.
I will write (more) feminist stories in 2022. That’s my resolution—and my part in the revolution.
Because National Novel Writing Month is galloping on, here are some reflections from someone who has been there—and is now going back for her second round.
It’s National Novel Writing Month! And I’m reflecting on my own process—and answering questions from novelists-to-be—all month long.
There’s a lot about Weimar in The Road Not Taken. (There’s even an excerpt of some of those chapters up at Ms. magazine!) To this day, I haven’t seen an environment in which women were so free—and I grew up in Greenwich Village. This brings me to today’s magical question: What three words define your freedom?
Egyptian mythology says that your heart gets weighed against a feather when you die. I like that. You get judged for what you did with the lifetime you just lived. That brings me to today’s magical question: What is the life you’re waiting to live—and when will you begin allowing yourself to live it?
I am a storyteller. At six years old I told stories that took my character deep into a cave where she discovered walls of colorful jewels and cavernous rooms filled with weird creatures.