Tagged writing

The ghost accepts a refill

  To the ghost of kindreds past, present, future: I salute your intrepid spirits navigating the seedy lots off Highway 99 and hurried pie buyers to inhabit a corner booth at Shari’s every Monday night for so many years. Those full diner mugs topped off, the waitress taps the carafe of tepid liquid and says…

The ones we keep choosing

Last week I opened an email that began, “Unfortunately, Joanna, you did not win…” It was lottery tickets to see Hamilton, which just opened in Seattle. The tickets have been at scalper’s prices since like five seconds after they went on sale. This lottery is my best hope of seeing what some have called the…

It’s basically a muffin

I sat at my computer, staring at the screen, heart palpitating with my pinkie resting firmly on the delete button. My eyeballs danced frantically over each sentence again and again as I dissected every word. Ugh, why did I say it that way?  I thought. Why did I use so many parentheses? All the other…

In me was the Word

My oldest daughter was born on New Year’s Eve, and, hugely pregnant at Christmastime, I was often in mind of Mary. I felt bodily what it meant to submit oneself to the creative force of the universe. I felt what it meant to live with expectation, the giddiness and fear and uncertainty. I’ve been pregnant…