Diary
Cancer Gadfly: My Envyometer
There’s lots of writing about cancer―memoirs, graphic and prose, blogs, narratological and anthropological studies, science reporting. Most of the writing is bad, by which I mean overly cheerful
The perils of pencils
It’s been impossible not to follow and mourn the crisis in Paris. The attacks have compelled as much attention as the events of 9/11, when we were glued,
Cancer Gadfly: Nothing but blue skies…
Little did I dream while riding on the back of a black Triumph motorcycle in Paris that several decades later I would be invited to picture myself perched
What me worry?: Living with the C. Word.
Having cancer is bad enough without being urged to enjoy your diagnosis, believe you can will it away through your state of mind. And it’s not just nurses
All in the Timing
By the time I was making the final revisions to the Breathless manuscript, I had been diagnosed with lung cancer―“incurable but treatable,” as today’s oncological discourse codes the
Bookstores and Lovers
It’s always exciting to read about a bookstore opening, rather than closing, though in the case of Albertine, the new bookstore hopes to revive the interest in things
Three’s a charm
Complaining is my default mode, so I thought I’d challenge myself to comment on something unreservedly good on offer this fall season: thrilling books by women writers. The
Rules of Engagement
After a very long summer break I finally feel up to putting a toe in the murky social media water where my blog perforce resides. There’s so much
Welcome. Some musings on my current preoccupations with the worlds of illness and the worlds of books, the vicissitudes of living with cancer and the need now, in my eighties, to imagine what new writing might be.