You never know what will make you want to write.

Or maybe YOU do. But I don't. I'm in the middle of reading Sisterland by Curtis Sittenfeld, and for some reason, it has me thinking about all the books that I want to write. It's not exactly a "writerly" book either. The language is pretty plain and the imagery is bare, but it is set... Continue Reading →


Padded closets, Emma Goldman, and reading closely

Last night I dreamed that I was looking for the perfect place to write and I decided to go back to my old apartment in the East Village. My sister's friend Amy was living there now, and she had offered it as a quiet place to work.┬áIn reality, the apartment had never been a quiet... Continue Reading →

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