Remember The Hours, where Julianne Moore plays Laura Brown, depressed housewife? She’s the mother of future artist Richard Brown (played by Ed Harris), who as an adult, thinks about her abandonment right before he plunges to his death outside his Brooklyn apartment. Happy times, this movie. Anyway, flash back to when Richard is nine. Laura, [...]
As a teacher, I try to find poetry and prose that will really resonate with students. It’s a skill not unlike writing, in which you have to know your audience, use cultural references to persuade them and connect with them. I often turn to the poet Anne Sexton to help me do this, since her [...]
SuperWoman is going incognito today at the BlogHer Writers’ Conference. Humidity has abated, the fairies have listened to her cries, and she is off to strut around New York City amid the rushing morning crowds. No one even knows she has bright blue spandex on under her jeans, or that her comfortable clogs are also [...]
I know you’re all waiting with baited breath about the next Maladjusted Book Club selection, especially because this October, the Maladjusted Book Club turns O-N-E. No, you weren’t? You were busy? You were excited to pick your own books to read? Too bad. This next one is making me gush, it’s so delicious. Somewhere in [...]
SuperWoman gives up. It is the middle of October, and everything is sticky. Sticky leaves, sticky streets. Sticky countertops and wooden tables. The floor, especially, exudes a gumminess. Even her children have developed a greasy film. Everything is dirty, and who the hell has the time—or desire—to clean it? (Except the ants, who will outlive [...]
If I have gained anything in the last couple of years since my life and house was taken over by a second pair of little feet, it is an awareness of my emotional state. I never used to know how I felt. I just felt. There was some initial emotion buried down there, but then [...]
–For William Carlos Williams. (But mostly for moms.) So much depends upon a red sofa glazed with maple syrup beside the white paper scribbled in blue. So much depends upon the kitchen floor speckled with cracker droppings alongside the muddy shoes. Or. Nothing depends upon the small boy’s pee vibrant in the [...]