I haven't lived alone since 1986, when I had an apartment in York Harbor, Maine, near the beach. I was there for six months until my husband, then boyfriend, whisked me away to his apartment above a garage in Rye, NH on the beach.
A writer's life is enticing. Besides his home in Key West, Hemingway also lived in Idaho, Paris and Cuba. He traveled the world and hung out with other famous writers and artists. He had his very own style of writing and believed less was more.
I think I may be the world's worst meditator. I've tried it off and on since my 20s, and I love the concept: quieting the mental noise, clearing away the chatter for a period of time, inviting stillness. But I am so bad at it.
I have a tale to tell. Although I am not singular, there are not many of us left who went all the way to AIDS and came back whole. I am an AIDS elder. I hold my story and the story of a generation who lived and died in an unprecedented era of plague.
Sometimes we realized we had a ten-page scene that accomplished nothing. Other times a two page scene would be so dense it appeared to be unspeakable by Earthlings. At one point the play exceeded 200 pages.
Romance writers are supportive of each other. They are the Sisterhood of the Traveling Laptops, quick to lend a hand or writing tip to an up-and-coming author. They jump at the chance to encourage their colleagues. They are also fans.
In short, pithy essays, Celia Blue Johnson recounts how the simplest moments -- a trip, an odd job -- inspired some of the most beloved classics of Western literature. I talked with her to hear more about these fascinating accounts.
I think, like with a partner, when you have the right material, there's a magic click, and you fall in love -- whether it takes six books or sixteen years on one book. Maybe that's how long it takes. As long as it takes to feel the click, and have someone else agree.
Outsiders slam academia for not being "the real world," but I disagree. At times it's far too real. It can exhibit the oversize egos of professional sports; the hypocrisy of politics; the cruelty of big business; and the ruthlessness of organized crime.
I wonder whether writing fiction matters in a digital age. Truth is, between emails, text messages, Facebook status updates, and tweets, we are all writing quite a lot these days. We are often overwhelmed by words.