Articles
Why I Keep a List of Things I’d Never Tell Anyone (Except My Journal)There is a page in my journal that has no elegant title. It is simply a growing list of thoughts, memories, impulses, and private observations I cannot imagine…On the Pain of Editing a Love LetterA love letter begins as an act of surrender. The words arrive with their sleeves rolled up, carrying memories, private jokes, old wounds, and the small details…The Night I Wrote a Short Story Instead of Sleeping Next to YouAt 2:17 in the morning, your breathing had settled into its familiar rhythm. The room was dark except for the pale rectangle of my phone, and the space between…How to Dress for a Literary Event When You’re Feeling InvisibleThere is a particular kind of nerves that arrives before a literary event. You may have a ticket, a favorite author on the program, and a carefully chosen…What a Vintage Typewriter Taught Me About Love and PatienceThe typewriter arrived with a chipped green shell, a stubborn ribbon, and keys that sounded louder than my thoughts. It was hardly elegant when I first found…The best way to ruin a perfectly good relationship: write about itThere is a particular kind of danger in being a writer in love. A tender moment rarely remains only a tender moment. It becomes a sentence, then a paragraph,…On the silence between two people who used to talk for hoursThere is a particular kind of quiet that arrives after intimacy. It is different from the comfortable silence shared by people who feel secure together. This…Why I write about my mother’s dressesSome memories arrive as photographs, voices, or familiar recipes. Mine often return as fabric. A pressed collar, a row of pearl buttons, or the soft lining of…The art of releasing a story that no longer worksEvery writer eventually meets a draft that once felt urgent but now seems strangely airless. The characters repeat themselves, the plot moves without meaning,…How a fictional villain can break your heartThere is a peculiar intimacy in creating a character who makes terrible choices. You invent their childhood, give them the wound they refuse to name, and place…