by Cynthia Newberry Martin | Mar 12, 2017 | 60 to 60, Columbus GA, continuous life, life, marriage, memory, time, truth |
1997: Kathleen turns 16, gets her license, and drives out the driveway while my face is plastered to the window. It doesn’t seem possible. Sam is 3 1/2 and he and Jack and Bobby are the three amigos. I have enough free time to think about going back to...
by Cynthia Newberry Martin | Jul 31, 2010 | obsession, reading |
“There was one last book to write and the summer to be lived through. She worked on the book in a desultory manner, writing odd disjointed pieces at strange times of the day, dating them like journal entries, although they had nothing to do with the days on...
by Cynthia Newberry Martin | Jul 23, 2010 | novels, Pam Houston, stories |
I’m trying not to search for structure. I’m trying just to write. I wrote a few pages this morning. With the other things I’ve written, I’ve seen the structure from the very beginning. As I type these words, I realize: I’ve also seen the...
by Cynthia Newberry Martin | Sep 7, 2008 | truth |
This morning I remember Ellen Gilchrist writing about getting down on the floor to play with her books. I want to find that passage. With my coffee in one hand, I begin to pull her books off the shelf. I think it’s in Falling Though Space, her journal, but I...
