by Cynthia Newberry Martin | Oct 4, 2008 | life |
Life is weather. Life is meals. Lunches on a blue checked cloth on which salt has spilled. The smell of tobacco. Brie, yellow apples, wood-handled knives. James Salter, in one of my all-time favorite books, Light Years. I met James Salter in Portland in July of 2004,...
by Cynthia Newberry Martin | Oct 2, 2008 | my writing |
marry tale #1: the doors between Once upon a time there was a man and a woman, who decided to become the husband and the wife. They wanted to be sensible. They wanted to continue to respect each other. Each wanted to preserve his and her privacy. They weren’t...
by Cynthia Newberry Martin | Sep 30, 2008 | shapes |
The Oxford American Dictionary defines this beautiful sounding word as like prose; lacking poetic beauty. unromantic; dull; comonplace. The top three definitions of prose are the ordinary form of the written or spoken language a passage of prose a tedious speech or...
by Cynthia Newberry Martin | Sep 28, 2008 | details, journeys, reviews |
The Country Life, published in 1997, is Rachel Cusk’s third novel. She is spacing them out like children–one every two years. As opposed to The Temporary, the writing is solid throughout, continuously propelling the reader forward. The first sentence...
by Cynthia Newberry Martin | Sep 27, 2008 | continuous life |
I used to copy down favorite passages in a notebook. A small five by seven three-ring binder. I could move the pages around, organize them. I haven’t written in it in a while. I’m not sure why. Maybe too busy writing myself. Anyway, I was looking...
