Writing with ADHD I’ve been watching the clock this weekend, knowing I had to get something finished so it would be ready to post today (Monday). I was working on one piece for this blog and another piece that isn’t quite right for this blog, although it might be in the future. I did spend…
Tag: Erika
This Poem Feels Finished…?
Sylvia on the Phone —I woke up today thinking “Sylvia Plath had the right idea. She left a pretty interesting legacy; A couple of kids, a bunch of famous poems, And she went out on her own terms.” Depression is like an ex-lover I can’t get rid of, She shares custody of my brain, Owning…
A Piece of Our Minds: An Introduction
You may be looking at this page and wondering why we’ve claimed a little spot for ourselves. Why not just share our writing on the same page as the other pieces we’re bringing you? After all, we’re all writers here, right? If I tried to summarize it in one word, I’d probably say, “Accountability.” That…
Writer’s Block: Bad Days are Easier
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”…
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…
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…
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…
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…
What it Means to Ban a Book
“Censorship reflects a society’s lack of confidence in itself.” The only book my parents ever took away from me was Catcher in the Rye. There are a lot of reasons someone might want to take that book away from a child. But none of those were the reasons my parents confiscated it from me. My…
Teaching my Kid about September 11
September 11, 2001 was a bright, clear, sunny morning. Washington DC doesn’t let you forget it was built on a swamp, and it was a morning where I remember appreciating the impending change of seasons, and feeling that the oppressive summer humidity was fading. There wasn’t anything all that unusual about the day. Just little…