By Erika Grumet I’ve been staring at blank pages for days, deadlines lurking right around the corner on my calendar… wandering between in a funk because I can’t think of what to write about and Kermit-arm-flailing panic that the words are never going to come back. I don’t exactly think of it as “writer’s block”…
Category: Another World Within
London Letter #5: “Somewhere Beyond the Sea”
Yeah. I’m not in London anymore. I’m not even in England anymore. But I’m still writing these because there are aspects of my trip I look back on, even at the remove of only a few days, with a warm sense of delight and tranquility and joy. And there are parts I am haunted by….
Real Isn’t How You Were Made, It’s Something That Happens to You
The other night, while I was trying to get some writing done, and really struggling, and had gone through all of my usual techniques for getting my head into the right place, I took a break, and stuck this little note to my keyboard. I’ve talked a lot about not being a “real writer.” I’ve…
London Letters #4: “That Serene and Blessed Mood”
This was to be my final letter; the one in which I told you what it’s like for me, as a scholar of 16th and 17th century English literature, to visit Stratford-on-Avon, the birthplace of Shakespeare. I hardly mentioned Shakespeare in my dissertation; but my connection with his writing goes back to childhood. Being able…
I’m Queer. Please Pass the Peas?
By Erika Grumet A few weeks ago, a thirteen year old I know showed up at my house wearing a t-shirt that read:“Bisexual Trash Panda.” Even before I was a parent, I knew adolescent sexuality pretty well–years of teaching about HIV and STIs, contraception and LGBTQ101 gave me a lens into that topic long…
London Letters #3: “The Rain it Raineth Everyday”
I decided to call this one “London Letters,” even though I’m not in London anymore, because “Shropshire Letters” doesn’t alliterate. “English Countryside Letters” has a nice ring but oh well. We had to give up Anuja’s apartment in Camden Town on Sunday, and, rather than move to a different part of the city, we decided…
I’m Going to Use the R-Word (& it’s okay if you do, too)
On an October night, twenty seven years ago, I was attacked.On an October night, twenty seven years ago, I was victimized.On an October night, twenty seven years ago, I was sexually assaulted.On an October night, twenty seven years ago, I was raped. It’s all the same night. It’s all the same thing, isn’t it? Even…
London Letters #2: “O for a Muse of Fire”
Yesterday I walked past Shakespeare’s Globe Theater. It was intense. Just walking past it. I’ve been in London now for over a week. I’ve seen a bunch of the tourist things you’re supposed to see, and not seen others. I saw the treasures of the Sutton Hoo excavation at the British Museum. I saw all…
The Story I Never Told my Grandmother
My grandmother was known for entertaining guests; in fact, the stone at her grave makes note of her skill as a hostess. I recall standing in the kitchen with my mother, while we were preparing the house to sit shiva* for her. I was busy getting the table organized, setting up coffee, and making sure…
London Letters #1: I’m Having a Great Trip
It is strange being in the city that, for over three hundred years, was the navel of the world… And not really caring. I arrived in London on October 1. Why I’m here has nothing to do with the Globe Theater or the tailors on Savile Row. Or the scones. Grief Tourism My fiancee had…