In case you missed it, my short personal story of love and marriage, called Smelly Make This Bed, makes an appearance today at The Manifest-Station, a beautiful online journal “On Being Human.” This Valentine’s Day, let it remind us that whatever challenges we face in our lives, somehow, somewhere, some way: love survives. Happy Valentine’s Day to you!
In this month’s edition of Long Story Short, I take a personal look at a sacred yet strange space, the marriage bed: “…when you spend years sleeping with one person everything that happens in bed is too much information.” Please check out Smelly Make This Bed (if you haven’t yet). Thank you as always, my friends, for supporting the power of words.
I’ve been feeling the loneliness that comes with the realization that not only do others not see the world the same way as I, but that nobody sees it the same way at all. Not a one. Not even the people who vote the same. Not even the people who like the same movies, books, and dances. Not the dearest of friends.
Today at The Blood-Red Pencil, I share my recent experience baring my soul before a Los Angeles audience without a book, notes, or any written material in hand. I thought author readings were nerve-wracking, but those are nothing compared to a StorySlam and Stage Fright.
It happens to writers sometimes, but I never thought it would happen to me. No matter how much we love them, no matter how hard they work for us, no matter how sure we are that they cannot be replaced: sometimes we have to fire our protagonists. Today at The Blood-Red Pencil I consider why I had to fire my historical novel’s first protagonist, and how I discovered whether my new protagonist was up to the job.