My Dearest Doves, Hoorah for another installment in my favorite series, IT’S FEMINISM’S FAULT!!! Any readers with a highly developed sensitivity to baloney might want to skip the following letter (it’s a full-on baloney sandwich!) and jump straight to my reply. Consider yourself bewarned, sweet chickadees! Dear Miss Madame, My aunt is a nightmare […]Read more "Dear Miss Madame : Newsflash!!! Women Were Never Oppressed"
Naomi Jackson studied fiction at the Iowa Writers’ Workshop. Jackson traveled to South Africa on a Fulbright scholarship, where she received an M.A. in Creative Writing from the University of Cape Town. A graduate of Williams College, her work has appeared in literary journals and magazines in the United States and abroad. She is the […]Read more "Debut Novel from Naomi Jackson"
The party was in full swing when a man in a sport coat walked in and greeted me by name. Everything about his demeanor said, I got an invitation, but I had no idea who he was. I puzzled over him like a difficult equation. After several hours of deliberation, I figured it out. I […]Read more "I Like You, but I Can’t See You: A Writer’s Reflections on Face Blindness"
The weather was a lot different and Hawthorne Boulevard was a lot different. 6/29/08 I’ve finally indulged in a Moleskine in hopes that having a fancy notebook will actually get me writing again. This particular one is the perfect size for the purse I bought at Last Thursday. Today there was an unusual thing in […]Read more "June, 7 Years Ago"
I was looking at an old Moleskine and came across a “2 Line Journal” project I had done for June 2011. It looks like I wrote two sentences each day starting on the 5th, or that was the goal. I was in Maryland helping my family because my father had contracted life-threatening MRSA and was […]Read more "June, 4 Years Ago"
“If I could stir I could break a tree— I could break you.” —H.D.’s “Garden” Once I thought there were two kinds of Southern women the ones who stay and the ones who leave I thought it was a choice and an easy one that any body could plough through the humidity could scrape a […]Read more "Crossroads"