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An Imitation of Other Stories
I have always loved stories.
I’ve spent my life creating stories myself, of course, but even more, I have spent it seeking out others’ stories. Immersing myself in the experiences, the griefs, the triumphs of human beings who never lived except on the page.
Let America Be America Again
O, let America be America again—
The land that never has been yet—
Understandings
The most important set of understandings that I bring to that position of citizen,
Why Not Me?
I was born toward the end of the Great Depression and came into awareness during World War II. Nonetheless, my childhood was quiet and secure. The Depression touched me only because it haunted my father, but the war had little impact.
A Text that Sings
The last time I wrote in this space, I talked about poetic images in picture-book texts.
I’m a great admirer of poetry (and poets), but I am not a poet. I can occasionally stumble upon a truly fresh image when I’m writing, but mostly I have to turn to other devises to give my picture-book texts resonance.
Words that Never Met One Another Before
I once had a friend, a poet, who taught me important lessons about poetry.
The most memorable one—and she was emphatic about this lest I miss the point—was that I am not a poet.
The Search
The period of time after I have finished one writing project and before I have found my way to the next is always a fraught one. I pack a manuscript off to my editor after many months, sometimes years, of immersion and wake the next morning to a vacuum. A vacuum filled with questions.
Writing for Love
In its earliest meaning, amateur meant having a marked fondness, liking or taste for some activity. If we’re talking about writing, an amateur is someone who loves to write . . . or perhaps more accurately, writes for love.
