• Bridge Ladies

    Bridge Ladies Sometimes I think a meteor could strike the earth and wipe out mankind with the exception of my mother’s Bridge club — Roz, Bea, Bette, Rhoda, and Jackie — five Jewish octogenarians who continue to gather for lunch and Bridge on Mondays as they have for over fifty years. When I set out to learn about the women behind the matching outfits and accessories, I never expected to fall in love with them. This is the story of the ladies, their game, and most of all the ragged path that led me back to my mother.
  • Archives

I Can’t Make You Love Me

Image result for paisley

I’m just going to say it: you have a to keep a journal or a diary if you call yourself a writer. You can’t count on memory. You can’t count on anyone to remember what kind of hat she wore or what you felt about Hart Crane. I know a writer who kept a day book during her thirties. On any given day, she can consult it and see if she had her period, if she had a crush, if she learned a new song, or found treasure in the form of a biker jacket with a paisley lining, You must take notes,on pads, placemats, notebooks, the inside of your palm. You must write and write and write and write. Your arms are branches, your lungs fill and empty, your eyeliner is flawless.

Do you feel me?

9 Responses

  1. You betcha. I think this might be in direct correlation to yesterday’s post – and the critical question – “what do you do with your brilliant ideas?”

    I regret I don’t journal, keep a diary, or even loose pages of random thoughts. I have tried. It ain’t in me, and I can’t explain it.

    Does a square of Sticky Notes count? That’s where my supposed plot issue brainstorm/possible solutions go. I have a cube of neon yellow, royal blue, and hot pink – all together and a jumble of notes 3-4 stickies down.

    Like, “what does MM want?”

    Strangely – a journal could be part of my plot resolution in my latest WIP.

  2. What, and deny yourself the creative challenge of trying to recreate your life when you have a writing project that won’t go away and your memory is shit?

  3. Do I feel you? I haven’t written in months, never filled in that beautiful blank baby journal with my youngest daughter’s first words and she’s 18 now (I think she said PBS). If one more person tells me to keep a food journal I’ll spit. Occasionally there’s a yellowed yellow sticky note. “Middle name Pearl.” “Woman in little black dress using a package of Oreos as a clutch.” I should write about my spouse’s text yesterday saying she’s leaving this weekend for a “little separation.” Or stick a note on my bedside table to remind myself to put on deodorant. My contacts keep folding in half, my dreams are in the toilet and I am feeling you in my bone marrow where there is probably another pesky autoimmune disease waiting to take hold.

  4. I feel you, too.
    betsy

  5. I feel you.

    Sent from my iPhone

    >

  6. You know it

  7. I have very few regrets in life. Not keeping a detailed journal is one of them.

    I’ve led an amazing and crazy life. Good lord. Wish I could remember half of it.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: