by Cynthia Newberry Martin | Jul 22, 2010 | craft of writing |
I wanted another cup of tea, but I kept hearing Ron Carlson’s voice: The writer is the person who stays in the room. So I kept staying and kept writing. Out of the corner of my eye, out the window to my right, I could see what I assumed was lots of squirrel...
by Cynthia Newberry Martin | Jul 20, 2010 | first novels, mfa, reviews |
Robin Oliveira was a graduate assistant during my first residency at Vermont College. I met her only months before her first book would be published by Viking. Mary Sutter is a midwife, and what she wants is clearly stated in dialogue in the first chapter: “I want to...
by Cynthia Newberry Martin | Jul 17, 2010 | continuous life, journeys, life, memory, place, time, truth |
I walk every step of what used to be the camp, of what is now Kingsland Bay State Park. Then I sit in a white Adirondack chair with my pen and paper, looking across the bord de l’eau to the Adirondacks. I bring my vision in to the flag pole cemented to the ground. The...
by Cynthia Newberry Martin | Jul 15, 2010 | continuous life, journeys, life, memory, place, time |
I ask the young park ranger if there are any cabins left. He says no, just the shed. But it’s not just the shed. I take some photos of the outside of the cabin and head deeper into the woods toward the Point of Rocks. Something tells me to go back. The cabin is...
by Cynthia Newberry Martin | Jul 13, 2010 | continuous life, journeys, life, memory, mfa, place, time |
On Saturday, July 3rd, I took a break from lectures and readings and slid into my rented red Prius headed for the past. Even though Ferrisburg, Vermont, lies directly west from Montpelier, Google Maps directed me north to Burlington and then south. In addition to my...
