Writers share their hearts, their limbs, their breasts -- even their teeth! -- in this stunning collection ...
“Think of it like a raspberry,” he said. It was an odd visual, certainly, yet I followed his lead …
A favorite quote I keep tacked to a bulletin board in my office reads: “One’s destination …
I’m not sure why my mind keeps returning to my time on the hill, the remote hill in Vermont …
We’d arrived at the ER just after midnight, January 5, 2016—ironically, Mom’s eighty-first birthday.
In late winter, 2020, I—and the world—learned that V is for virus. Shapeless, unable to be seen, heard ...
I’ve had a headache for thirty days. OK, I’m lying. It’s closer to sixty, but sixty days sounds terribly long.
My brother Sean and I had a routine the summer we spent in hospital waiting rooms. He’d pull ...
I was at the final winery I’d be visiting in the Chianti region, seated at a long farm table with ...
A breeze swept off the water and into the car’s window as we crossed the Tobin Bridge toward home.
In my garden, one of the first of my summer plants to push up from the ground in late May, after the spring ...
I hiccupped and slid into the booth beside Shelly. Wiggled out of my down coat. It was March, slushy ...
You were there, not conscious but in body, when they draped you, intubated and hooked you to a ventilator ...
My mother was in the room with me, morning to evening, in the weeks following my open-head surgery.
I’ve felt the pull for years, to see what’s out there, how it differs from what I understand of the world ...
Our neighborhood has a sidewalk chalk artist, and I think she’s a girl. Twelve, maybe thirteen ...
Dispatch, from a May morning. The birds don’t know. They didn’t get the memo. Their songs outside my ...
The buildings flow as one attached with lumber and nail and stories of conjoined life across two centuries.
Yellow rose topiary, big blooms billowing atop ball, ruffled roses commanding attention. Admiration.
Pinwheels of pain, blue and bursting, radiate from my shoulder, furious fireworks lit and launching off …
I am from an Irish Clan’s love,
strong as bedrock, deep as ocean. I am from a surgeon's scalpel ...
Garden gargoyle, rumpled of brow, drowsy of eye, pointy of ear, peeks at me as I work the earth ...
... a devastating diagnosis is not always a death sentence, even when it involves a bleeding brain tumor.
When I wrote "Singultus” I was enrolled in a six-week writing workshop where we were encouraged to include ...
“A fiction writer starts with meaning, then manufactures events to represent it. A memoirist starts with events, then ...”
I spent my 2017 Thanksgiving in Barcelona. It was a departure, in many ways, from how I typically celebrate this U.S. holiday ...
There’s no better way for me to remember to appreciate my blessings than to travel, and to begin to understand how the other half ...
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