I can’t make up my mind about Dale Chihuly. He’s a glassblower, which makes him a craftsman. But is he also an artist? He’s prolific and his work is popular; does that mean he’s pandering to a mass audience? Is his work fine art—or shameless kitsch? Read more.
the writing life
Tulips and Sex — Writing as If Everyone I Know Were Dead
I want to write about tulips today. I don’t want to write about sex. The trouble is, for me, writing about tulips means writing about sex: something about their juicy curves brings erotic metaphors to my particular mind. I had thought that once my mother — and father — were no longer alive and reading over my shoulder, I’d be able to write my heart out, but . . . Read more.
Yippee! I Did It — I Finished My Book
At 6:02 p.m. yesterday evening I hit the send button and sent the manuscript for Wrestling With God off to my publisher, Patheos Press. To tell you the truth, I’m very proud of this book. Read more.
Armistead Maupin: The Man Who Wrote the Quintessential San Francisco Novel — On a Newspaper Deadline
Army’s assignment was to show up at the offices of the San Francisco Chronicle every weekday morning and produce seven hundred words, give or take. The challenging part was this: Unlike most newspaper journalists, Army did not sit down to his Selectric typewriter fortified with a fat notebook of stats and quotes. Army’s job was not to report the news. It was to make it up. Read more.
Yea! A Book Contract for “Wrestling With God”
Good Books I Haven’t Really Read: Anna Quindlen, Stephen Prothero, David Talbot and a Book About French Love . . .
There are seven intriguing books currently languishing on my bookshelf, crying out to be read. Books I’ve dearly wanted to spend quality time with in the past year, but haven’t. And that’s because I’m writing — and promoting — a book myself. Read more.
‘Read Me a Story, Mommy, But Not That One You Wrote’ (Or,The Nicest Thing My Husband Ever Said to Me)
To save money, management had cut my hours back to one day a week. I did what every self-respecting writer does when she’s ticked off at the world. I sat down at the keyboard – and wrote. Read more.