Meal time in my house when I was growing up centered on lunch, and the cook was not my mother, god forbid, or my father, though he could make an impressive breakfast, but rather our housekeeper, Lorene, a big-boned black woman who wore a white uniform to work, Monday – Friday, from 8:30 – 2:30….
Category: Writing
River Teeth — A Great Journal + One of the Best Pieces Ever On Writing Memoir
River Teeth — About the Journal.
Observations in the Airport and Almost Left Behind
The young Indian woman sitting across from me is wearing black jeans, a black and white print top and a gray scarf covered in white polka dots. She’s talking on her phone, her dark hair pulled back in a long ponytail, her face bright as she chats, a look of expectation on her smooth-skinned face….
Last Day in Corpus Christi and Party Going
It’s morning here in Corpus Christi. The last day of our visit before heading back home tomorrow at 6 am. I just took Sarah to the hospital where she’ll begin her 6 week rotation on Ob/Gyn. She talked to a friend last night who had just finished that rotation and he said, “It’s awful. Nobody…
Closet-Sitting & Another Day with Sarah
I am sitting in the closet, literally. The iron is on a shelf across from me and a mini-ironing board is leaning against a cardboard box. Two levels of hangers – sweaters and blouses on the top level and slacks on the bottom – are to my left. A folded up blue beach chair is…
The Effects of Writing Practice | Judy Reeves
The Effects of Writing Practice | Judy Reeves.
Today in Corpus Christi
My husband and I have come to Corpus Christi to see our daughter, Sarah, who is a 3rd year medical student doing her rotations down here on the Texas coast. She’s been here since July and we’ve seen her a couple of times in California or at our home in North Central Texas, but this…
Prompt: Random Names: Jack and Ava; Random Location: Deserted Island in the Pacific
“This is great,” Jack said, lying down in the fine white sand and staring off at the sunset. I’m happy we’re here.” Ava stared at him in disbelief. “Are you kidding me? It’s going to be dark in less than an hour and we have no idea where we’re going to sleep tonight, much less…
Reflections on This 20 Minutes a Day Writing Process
I have to admit that writing for 20 minutes a day – which ends up being around 40 once I edit – and then publishing on this blog has not been exactly like gobbling down a piece of moist chocolate cake with lots of butter cream frosting on top. (Can you tell I’m hungry?) No,…
A Trip Home
After Cecilia knocked on the front door of her childhood home and waited for the people who had lived there now twenty years to answer, she reached out and touched the stucco wall next to the door. It was the same beige that it had been when she was a girl and was rough to…
20 Minutes a Day 