In Part 1 of the above, I continued the story of how I became interested in writing, from innocent rhymes to my mother to racy novellas to winning a high school award. Unfortunately, no one thought to refer me to a college with a decent writing program. I was like the Oliver Twist of writing …
My enjoyment of writing began early, as I described in a previous post Pretty Girls, Phallic Symbols, and the Mysterious Human Brain. Starting with childish tributes to my mother’s beauty (almost as soon as I could write), I soon became more sophisticated. By age 11, I was regaling my friends with a novella written in daily installments. As we walked […]
Previously, I described how a wealthy third grade friend sparked a love of nature within me. She led me through woods, across swamp, and to the bank of a river that were all part of her family’s property, and I found them every bit as voluptuous as the mansion that fronted their land. Then I had the great fortune to spend […]
So there I was, entering high school, and along with all the other anxieties (‘Will anyone like me?’ ‘Can I pass geometry?’) was the worry that I might be a lesbian. My mom had as much as told me I was after she caught me and a girlfriend kissing. The gross tongue-stabbling I got from my first date pretty much […]
Before I get into the heart of this post, I must comment on what it’s like to type the word “ain’t.” I use it occasionally in vernacular speech, if I want to sound blue-collar-cool, or make some kind of point. But I wonder if I’ve ever actually written it before. If I have, I must have been on my second […]
So far, this blog is chronicling how I came to be interested in the topics of food, sex, love, relationship, health and nature – enough to link them in my book in progress, Licking the Spoon. My first food was breast milk, the best food for an infant, only I don’t remember it. What I do remember was the sexy […]
When I was 10, I learned a new word: Lesbian. My mom called me one. And it was not meant the way kids call each other “gay” today, even though that isn’t nice either. She was genuinely worried…
After the New Year’s Eve revelry, the hangover. After the pre-holiday excitement of posting to my first blog, the post-holiday realization that it’s already time to post again. Doh! Not that posting is comparable to a hangover…
