dog-ears, no. 1

I’ve never really been a bookmark person. I’ve always tried to be, I think. I always take the free bookmarks from museums, from libraries, from random Shakespeare in the Park fundraisers that I drive to on a whim at which I recite the Henry V prologue in front of strangers (you mean you don’t do this, too?) One of those bookmarks is actually sitting in my copy of Wuthering Heights right now, precariously marking my progress about one-third into the novel. We’ll see how long it remains in use.

But no, I’ve never really been a bookmark person. I’ve always preferred the more low-budget, low-stress, high-impact technique: the titular DOG-EAR, folding the top corner down, using the book itself to remember your place in it. It leaves a crease, and it looks sloppy if you’re not careful, I suppose, but I’ve always used it and probably always will. What likely started as simply seven-year-old me trying and failing to find a bookmark to mark her place in whichever number of the Boxcar Children she was rereading on a give afternoon has become, now, a habitual practice. Somehow I feel like I’m not supposed to dog-ear, like people who love books are supposed to care for them in a way that does not include dog-ears, but I sort of love the feeling of opening up a book I’ve reread over and over, maybe Bloomability by Sharon Creech or Theater Shoes by Noel Streatfeild, and seeing the places I’ve left off before. It gives the book a sort of history. We all love used books. Dog-ears create used books, people!!

Read More »

Advertisements

SUMMER IN THE HILLS 1.1: Not Doing Nothing!!!

Eleven drafts. I have ELEVEN DRAFTS saved right now, all incomplete, just a few with any chance of seeing the light of internet-day. Some ceased being relevant months ago, others are just waiting for me to make up my mind about if they are too personal/not personal enough/uninteresting/worth sharing/contain enough decent prose to publish. It’s harder than it looks, this blogging thing.

But today I am sitting down, at ten am in the Eastern Time morning, with two pieces of toast, coffee, a hard-boiled egg, and every intention to finish, edit, and share this little listy bit of writing that is the first in a series of what I am calling SUMMER IN THE HILLS, aka, the riveting chronicles of my daily life as a professional salad maker (stay tuned) and amateur everything else in the North Hills of Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, as I try to make some art and rest a little bit before returning to Wheaton to do a play and also my last year of college. Sounds like an exciting time for blogging!! Right? OF COURSE RIGHT.

(I really hope you read that in your best Fiddler on the Roof Yente impression.)

Read More »