Category Archives: mom

Before the Last Leaf Falls

For over half my life now, I’ve struggled with Seasonal Affective Disorder in early autumn. I don’t know if it was a series of painful life situations I had to deal with one particular summer when I was younger, or just my growing awareness of the metaphorical meaning of the seasons changing (and all the attendant cues around me), but even when I’ve had good things going on for me at the time, September has been a very painful month for me to get through.…

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Out of Order

The strong desire I had to be famous when I was very young might be attributable to a number of factors. My hyperactive imagination is certainly high on the list of potential reasons, not only because it facilitated my daydreams of fame, but also because I could think of lots of ways to harness that imagination to create works of art that would lead to me becoming famous (or so I believed back then). The rise of cable television in my early years, and MTV…

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Storm Junkie

A love of thunderstorms runs in my family, or at least on Mom’s side of the family. From my earliest days, before we even had cable so the Weather Channel could let us know what to expect and when (as much as weather forecasts are ever accurate), the arrival of a thunderstorm at our house often meant gathering in the living room, so we could look out the big windows as the clouds darkened and then flashed with lightning. Especially in the years before the…

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The Air Up Here

Mom was, by anyone’s standards, extremely devoted to those of us in her blood family. Although her parents were hoping that she could turn her musical talents into a full-time career when she was in her teenage years, that never really came to pass, especially after she became pregnant at nineteen. I can’t speak much to the first ten years she was a mother, because I hadn’t been born yet, but she often did everything she could, and usually more than she should have, to…

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The Toner Prices Are Too Damn High

Although I try to write as much as I can every day, some days, and some years, just turn out better for me in that regard. At the beginning of 2010, when I was in the middle of a period of peak productivity (including writing the short story that would eventually become my first novel,┬áThe Prostitutes of Lake Wiishkoban), I quickly realized that my old inkjet printer was costing me a mint as I kept replacing ink cartridge after ink cartridge when they ran out.…

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