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Parenthoodexpand_moreYour words will strike her heart like Saint Teresa’s flaming arrow.
If life is an open vein, what’s brave about a sleeve-heart, sweetheart?
It has come to this—my daughter is now assaulting other children.
Craig Bueltel
I don’t know you, I only think of you to ignore how unhappy I am.
They retire for the night, he to his bedroom and she to hers. What of it?
I had promised my children to end the war before they grew up.
You couldn’t believe what the rhododendrons do around here.
We’re tired. In bed, we hold hands. We watch TV. But do you want more?
Amy put her arm around his shoulders. My boy. Isn’t he wonderful?
A small circle of friends and family babysat so she could go to school.
We need to stop talking about it, we need to put some pants on.
Lori & Garry Marshall
Her city, but no cats. Specks of color, no cloth.
What about writers who come suddenly into full power late in life?
What about writers who come suddenly into full power late in life?
When you write the story of being a father don’t leave out the joy.
We’re stuck floating around on the surface of our lives like kids in a pool.
Best-selling author Melanie Gideon reads from her novel Wife 22.
The light is like a benediction. My husband reaches for my hand.
My job requires me to make things disappear like a Vegas magician.
At the core, a daughter is a self-reckoning emptiness.
Dr. Zee knows his son is struggling up out of some chemical fog.
