All my life, I wanted to live in the country. I was the child of streets, sidewalks, bridges, overpasses, a city that set its watch by military bases and the shipyard. I am now the sound of roosters crowing before daybreak, geese honking and flying in their “V” against an egg-colored sky, glassy ponds with … Continue reading A slice of long ago
A long time ago in a Galaxie far, far away . . . A little girl clutches Mama Bear and Papa Bear. Baby Bear has accidentally been flushed down the toilet. Clad in a mod red pantsuit instead of a long white dress, and with hair too short for cinnamon buns on the sides of … Continue reading A long time ago in a Galaxie far, far away
I was sixteen years old the first time I went to New York City—that’s the same age, according to his own writing, that St. Patrick was kidnapped in Britain and carried to slavery in Ireland. I didn’t know this fact at the time. I arrived in the city that long-ago day with my high school … Continue reading In the name of St. Patrick
Today concludes the thirty-one-day Slice of Life Story Challenge with Two Writing Teachers. Today I cross the finish line with many fellow Slicers, having written a post each day. But the writing doesn’t end here. Nor does the challenge … That’s the thing. Now, more than ever before in our lives, is a time to … Continue reading Write bravely
As a participant in the annual Slice of Life Story Challenge with Two Writing Teachers, I will be posting each day for the month of March. What better way to start than by expressing my love for writing? Or, to be exact, by expressing my love TO writing for the profound impact it’s had on … Continue reading Dear Writing
New Year’s Eve. The wind gusts in the night beyond the bedroom window. I sit at my scarred old vanity, watching a tiny hand-me-down television. I am fifteen, this room is my inner sanctum, so I am surprised when Daddy brings me a slice of frozen pizza that Mom heated up for a late … Continue reading From ashes of auld lang syne
Once upon a very long time ago, I walked with my grandmother down the dusty dirt road of her coastal North Carolina home place. The road was little more than a path lined by deep ditches and cattailed canals. Frogs plop-plopped from masses of lily pads into the murky water as we passed by. Beyond the … Continue reading The door
To commemorate my last post of the month-long Slice of Life Story Challenge with the Two Writing Teachers community—this is my second year of completion—I write about “last times.” Yesterday I shared the “first time” heart map template from Georgia Heard’s Heart Maps: Helping Students Create and Craft Authentic Writing. I use these templates when I lead … Continue reading Last times
A few days ago, I wrote about my son, the Cadillac man. I call him this for his lifelong love of the brand, especially his grandfather’s 1989 Sedan de Ville, which was bequeathed to him. I wrote how the Cadillac man hates writing and only did what was necessary all through school, to my despair. … Continue reading Cadillac man shares his writing!
Here’s a mentor text, a modeled memoir originally written for a fifth grade class a few years ago. It’s a true story from my own fifth grade year. These long-ago events etched themselves on my young heart as they unfolded. Some of the minor details are fuzzy, but I remember the intensity of these moments. I … Continue reading The Valentine
