I was just reading Poets and Writers and saw one more ad for a summer writing program touting its “internationally recognized” faculty, when it dawned on me: I, too, am internationally recognized! No, really. My husband and I were in Florence on our honeymoon, walking…

How many times a day do I think of things my assistant could do, if I had an assistant to do them? Many. Countless. Or no, they could be counted, but I would need an assistant to do so. Just lately, I’ve been wishing I…

I like tea, but I’m picky. I like tea that’s not too bitter, too tanniny, and has a little sweetness not conferred by sugar or <shudder> artificial sweeteners. For years, I could not figure out why the tea I made at home was so unappealing,…

I like Anne Lamott’s book Bird by Bird, I really do. She offers all kinds of good advice for writing, especially for those who, when they dutifully go to their office/fire escape/laptop in the garage, tend not to write but to crouch fearfully under a…

My daughter and I have a running joke about math. One of us will ask, “What time should I pick you up if we want to be in Grinnell in time for lunch?” and the other will shudder visibly and moan, “Oh no. Story problem.”…

I was going to call this blog Siege of Headaches, but then I thought, 1) Who wants to read about someone with headaches? and 2) What if I want to write about something other than headaches? So instead, we’re going with Siege of Words, which…

There is a quote about writing I have been searching for, and finally found today. I knew Annie Dillard — one our best writers ever, and one of my favorites — had written, somewhere, about how she writes, and the passage that really stayed with…

I love this picture of myself, taken by my first husband on our honeymoon in Switzerland. I look happy, my guard down, and my hair — well, I was growing it out. But it was so thick! So healthy! We couldn’t exactly afford a celebratory…

Morning’s lemon sun draws me to the glass, until some frozen presence makes me step away, a draft like a warning breath from the east-facing kitchen window. A gnawing numbness grips my hand, and my body becomes a glass of jagged ice cubes, colliding underwater.…

The tulips are doomed, sitting ducks in tonight’s late frost, two feet tall and naked. Red as my mother’s Revlon lipstick, they opened shamelessly all day in the sun, but close tight now at twilight, succulent triangles cupping their deep black centers. Clustered unaware under…

Hey, this is funny. I have a Trip Advisor badge. I think I’ve only reviewed two restaurants and one scenic destination, but I have over 5,000 readers! People must be flocking to the Credit Island bird sanctuary in Davenport, Iowa, all because of me. I…

Years ago, I wrote a poem titled “How My Cousin Nancee Died.” I knew only that her husband, Steve, had shot her, and her pianist, and then himself – a double-murder-suicide. (She had a pianist because she was a singer. Her husband evidently suspected an…

A lot of people I know were stunned by the outcome of last November’s election. How could this happen? Why didn’t we see it coming? Why did they vote for him? Therein lies a problem. Who, exactly, are “they”? The ballot box is secret. Unlike…

Have you ever been fired by a doctor? When it happened to me, six years ago, I was devastated. Not only would Dr. Doe (name changed, pronouns scrambled) no longer see me after three years of treating my headaches, he would not allow any of…

All up and down the block this morning, women are packing to leave. Getting down the smaller suitcase, emptying out half the closet and the upper dresser drawers, while their husbands sleep, sleep it off again, spent from the effort of keeping her in line.…

Those nights we fight, sitting on the hard kitchen chairs, dinner bones still piled on our plates, there should be marks, sharp drops of blood matching my teeth, ripped fur bits flung beneath the table, evidence of hurt among the crumbs. That’s what I know…

Late last month, a story in the TH stunned me with its tale of human cruelty. Its setting was not a bombed city in the Mideast, or a flooded island south of the equator. It took place in Iowa, in an office. You can probably…

This summer, I had grand plans for my medical leave following what my doctor called “major surgery.” I stocked up on DVDs, magazines, and, especially, books. I bought new artwork for the bedroom walls, and readied the cherrywood lap desk my daughter gave me for…

Although I talk a lot about my chronic headaches here because, hey, it’s my column, I don’t often talk about what it’s like to live with a chronically ill person. This could be because I have no idea what’s it like, because I’m lucky –…