I grew up in a rise-and-shine household. The coffee (on a timer) started percolating just before 6:00 a.m., when alarm clocks buzzed in everyone’s bedrooms. My parents, my younger brother, and I rolled out of bed every morning to the delicious aroma of fresh coffee brewing. Years before I ever drank it, I associated its … Read More
When I told people last spring I was teaching a class on some postmodernist novels, a few shot me puzzled glances. Maybe they were wondering why anyone on earth would do that, but the questions they actually asked out loud were two: 1) What were we reading in the class? 2) What the heck is … Read More
My step-daughter has spent this week moving into her first house. During the process of unpacking, she’s sent us pictures of the little islands of order she’s created, each one surrounded by a flotilla of boxes. Her experience has made me think of the whole process of making a house into a home: shoving the … Read More
This year, I’ve been grateful not to be named Karen. (Who wants to embody a meme about white cluelessness?) On the other hand, I’ve never been thrilled to be named Nancy, either. When I was growing up, I didn’t mind it too much. I felt a kinship with the indomitable Nancy Drew, girl detective. And … Read More
Here in New England, we cherish every sign of spring’s arrival. (Even those of us with hideous allergies enjoy it between sneezes.) So it doesn’t surprise me that Russian authors, with their even longer and darker winters, honor it extravagantly. And while their characters experience the sunshine and new leaves, spring also drifts into a … Read More
In February of 1938, my mother’s stepfather was shot dead by his stepfather — in broad daylight, on the streets of Baxter Springs, Kansas. Here’s what seems indisputable. Ted Roy, my mom’s stepfather, was walking home on a cool and cloudy Saturday morning when he spotted his mother’s ex-husband, Mike Giyer, driving down the street. … Read More
In his new book Chatter, Ethan Kross gives all due respect to the inner voice we hear as move about our daily lives. That voice, he reminds us, allows us to remember past experiences, reflect on our lives, and move toward our goals. We’re not quite human without it. But we all know how easily … Read More
One of my husband’s favorite Little Golden Book from his childhood was The Little House in the Big Forest, in which a family builds a house in the forest and then settles into its cozy shelter. His mother wrote his name and the year—1949, when he was three—on the title page. The book reminded him of … Read More
The opening lines of Dante’s Comedy are so direct, so chilling. In the middle of the journey of our life, I woke to find myself in a dark wood, Where the straight road was lost. We’re right beside Dante as he becomes aware of the deep ravine and ominous forest, as hope flares with a … Read More
February in New England is cold. One winter many years ago, when I lived halfway up Vermont and had to get to the office early in the morning, the outdoor temperature gauge read thirty below zero. At first, I suspected the gauge was broken. Because sleet had iced up the lock, it took some time … Read More