Border Crossings, May 2008
According to today’s reporting, more than 70,000 thousand refugees have fled Ukraine for Moldova. I return in memory, shock, and disbelief to my Eastern European
According to today’s reporting, more than 70,000 thousand refugees have fled Ukraine for Moldova. I return in memory, shock, and disbelief to my Eastern European
Since I’m not Pope Francis, what will it mean for me to live with 2/5ths of my lung capacity gone, thanks to my last encounter
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
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
I’ve just returned from a lecture trip to South Carolina. Among other things, I gave a talk called “My Memoirs Made Me Jewish,” a paradox
In the year 2000 I received a phone call from a real estate broker who informed me that I had inherited a small plot of
This weekend brought two radically different responses to my new memoir that caused joy and despair, the alternation of outcomes my friend Carolyn used to
What comes after the Countdown to Publication? The book launch. And what comes after that? Um…? You tell me. The day after my last scheduled
What does a memoirist really remember? Mortifying to confess, I remember where I was when I heard the news of the event in relation to
This my fourth and final Countdown to Publication. Wish me luck. It’s even in two bookstores in Brooklyn. For the first time in my life
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.