I was surprised and very grateful to my longtime friend Marly Youmas for dedicating this wonderful poem to me. Last night in dreams, she lived a thousand yearsAnd was the architect who made a houseThat wandered from the mountains to the sea. And in its rooms the strange and marvelousBegan to stir with […]
The Dreamer as Architect by Marly Youmans: Read More »
These days, I find myself re-reading many of my previous posts. More often than not, I am surprised by what I see. There is everything from midnight rambles about literature to sketchy plans about the future of my novel and even what else I should scan for my articles and essays. So, if someone
So many years of writing Read More »
Lately I have been struggling with sternal wires, placed in my chest after surgery to keep it closed as the two halves of my chest fused into a single unit. I had a great thoracic surgeon do the work. But over time, the sternal wires have become really painful, like a bunch of cat
How I feel these days Read More »
So my maternal grandfather Emmanuel Pierre Menager was something of a coyote trickster — an itinerant artist, a womanizer (an occasional bigamist), but a rather magical person when he showed up at our house. Though I suspect my parents — especially my father was less than pleased (despite the fact that Pierre was
Wily Rascal: My Grandfather, Pierre Menager Read More »
So it's true — every dog has his day. And here's a little celebration of those furry-faced, cold snouts and sweet-eyed dogs that come into our lives and make them better. I have to post this grizzled guy because I have known him now for 11 years and love him. Enjoy your day, Buju
Happy International Dog’s Day. Read More »
I love this photo from when I was a baby with my brother living in Veterans housing. I look like such a chunk and that laugh… I love it even more now that we are older.
I keep on my bulletin board two newspaper headlines to remind me that I might be a few bubbles off plumb. The Milwaukee Journal (March 30, 1987) boldly states, "15-year study of writers finds high rate of mental illness," while the Toronto Star (August 16, 1986) announces, "Researcher probes ties between insanity and
A Writer and a Mother. I Must Be Crazy Read More »
The abrupt sound of vigorous drum and cymbal music from outside the tent galvanized the audience. Lama J. leaned over and told me that this was the first drum signal, a ten-minute warning that the performance was about to begin. Last-minute stragglers rushed in and found seating. Others checked their supplies of snacks and
Tibetan A Ice Lhamo: The World Beneath the Tents by Jeanette Snyder II Read More »
I figured it was high time to post some pictures of my mother, Jeanette, and found this one of her just after I was born, as well as a strip of photo-booth pics taken when I was just a wee one. I've also included a photo taken just after my birth as I
The Joy of Seeing Her Face Every Now and Then. That lipstick! Read More »
My notes on re-reading Harold Scheub's work on oral narrative structures and performance. They have shaped the way I think of the fantastic in narrative and how it functions, and by extension, how those "electric moments" when the real and the fantastic are combined in narrative. Notes from Harold Scheub's Story: an evident
The Shaping of Story: Working Through Ideas Read More »
