From the monthly archives:

November 2009

On the Reading Table-Hard Love

by Lindsey on November 6, 2009

Writing is an act of faith. We sit in our homes, offices and huts, alone, creating worlds with people, problems and emotions. We tell stories and hope, hope, hope they mean something to someone. Then we take a break and we read. (For me, this is like permission to go out to recess.) If you are a writer, you must read. Why? Because we need to know how other writers created their worlds. It informs how we create ours. And for me, sometimes, when I read certain books, they sustain me in my act of faith because the fabric that writer wove is similar in texture, weight and truth to the one I would like to create. Such was my experience with Ellen Wittlinger‘s Hard Love–a beautiful story about about a boy whose first love is a hard love because the girl, Marisol, is a lesbian. That sentence reduces story way too much because what Wittlinger does is create a finely textured and truthfully woven world from the point of view of John, a young ‘zine writer who’s in that awkward teenage place of hating the world he was born into and not sure in which world he belongs.

I probably would have come to this book eventually but the reason I purchased it at Half Price Books was because my friend Varian Johnson said it was THE book which helped him know that he wanted to be a young adult writer. I can see why. I can also see that Varian brings that same level of truth to his books.

Yes. Writing is an an act of faith, a leap into the unknown wilds of the blank page. I love that I can turn to the pages of other writers making that same leap and sense our comaraderie, as we tap along alone in our homes, offices and huts.

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My Mother’s Refrigerator

by Lindsey on November 4, 2009

The only messy part of her house
Was the front of her refrigerator
It was a patchwork of
Black and white
Colored
Rectangular
Square
Five by seven
Eight by ten
Four by four
Faded and yellowed
Bright and new
Photos
Of
Friends
Family
Moments
Good times
Shared
With her
And without her.
Interspersed were
Newspaper clippings
Invitations
Notifications
Of
Parties
Meetings
Symphony dates.
Each one held
By magnets
Of
Bright Pink Lips
Martini glasses
Suns
Funny Fish
Crazy Ducks.
Each one given
By
People in the photos
People in the invitations
People who loved her
Bright pink lips
Martini glasses
Love of
Sunny Days
Funny Fish
Crazy Ducks.
This is how love is
Messy, chaotic, stuck together
This is how love is
Moments, people, gifts
This was her alter of love.
Her headstone.
Her refrigerator.

Lindsey Lane

My mother Elizabeth Durell Lane was born on November 4, 1921. She died on July 4, 2009. Today would have been her eighty eighth birthday.

Me and Mom, Mystic, Ct. July 2008

Me and Mom, Mystic, Ct. July 2008

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