Tag: ghostwriter
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up, but not north
There’s a moment in the novel Flatland after the Square comes back from his foray into the 3D world — the land of Cubes — and he’s trying to remember what it was like. The memory fades, so he clings to the only phrase he can think of to describe it: “Up, but not north.”…
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on what to do with weakness
The other day my friend was telling me about her acting woes. She’s auditioning a lot, she said, but none of the roles felt “right.” “It’d be better if I wrote my own parts,” she said. “But I can’t see myself actually writing. And I’m not a self-starter. I just know myself – I’d never…
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on observing
If you’ve ever been to yoga class, you’ve probably — hopefully — heard some variation of this: “Just notice.” “Don’t judge.” “Just observe the sensations that come up.” This is the core essence of yoga, as I understand it. (I used to think it was getting super flexible and doing cool arm balances that I…
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why writing is like air travel
I really like airports. Going through security doesn’t bother me. It’s kind of fun to hunt through the terminal for a chai latte. I find it satisfying to refill my water bottle at those little fountain things that are only at airports. I don’t mean airports are good places to hang out for no reason.…
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a beast in my soup
One afternoon I was having lunch with my friend Misha. We were gabbing about who-knows-what when she stopped and said, “There’s a beast in my soup.” I looked over and sure enough, swimming around her soup was a jade-green beetle. We erupted into giggles. “What is the other word?” she said, wiping a tear. She’s…
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a sharpened stake
I used to think writing was a solitary act. I wrote alone, brainstormed alone, edited alone. Only on very rare occasion did I let it out into the sunlight, did I invite someone in. Partly that’s because I was shy. I didn’t think anyone would want to read what I wrote. And showing someone your…
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anatomy of a story
One Thursday in 2017, my arm began to hurt. Instantly I assumed the worst: I must have torn something, probably during silks practice. I put on a sling and refused to lift even a pen. The pain worsened. So, days later, I called my chiropractor to book an appointment. “What does it feel like?” he…
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ghosts of christmas past
“On the day she turned 18, she told her parents she was leaving for school, but then she hitchhiked to Mexico.” This was yet another of my friend Laura’s wild stories about her mother. “That’s where she met my dad, who was stationed there. They got married within a month.” “Geez,” I said. “Has she…
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to be a toddler
When I first came to Peru three years ago, I found a community of language learners: some learning English, some learning Spanish. I was learning Spanish, armed with high school vocab and an impressive Duolingo streak (250 days!). Yet it was not past experience, nor commitment to an app, that indicated anyone’s success. Nor was…
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saws and other writing tools
“If you’ve never seen a saw, then a log looks like a miracle.” Think about that. If what you want feels impossible, it’s tempting to conclude that it is. But maybe… Maybe it just seems that way because you haven’t yet found the right tools. Maybe, to someone with the right tools, it’s in reach.…
Kimberly Bunker, MFA 