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Sunday Sentence

paley
In which I participate in David Abrams’s “Sunday Sentence” project, sharing the best sentence I’ve read during the past week, “out of context and without commentary.”

Then Faith was ashamed to have wanted so much and so little all at the same time—to be so easily and personally satisfied in this terrible place, when everywhere vast public suffering rose in reeling waves from the round world’s nation-states—hung in the satellite-watched air and settled in no time at all into TV sets and newsrooms.

Source: Grace Paley, “Midrash on Happiness” (discovered via the fiction-writing class I mentioned on Wednesday)

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Wednesday’s Work-in-Progress

DeathtoStock_Creative Community3I couldn’t decide which of three possible topics to address in this week’s “work-in-progress” post. So I’ve taken what is definitely the easy way out: I am giving you brief summaries of each. (Hey, maybe I should ask which of the three you’d all prefer to hear more about in a subsequent post. What do you think about that?) Continue reading ›

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Monday Markets for Writers: No Fees, Paying Gigs

dollar-sign-mdMonday brings the weekly batch of no-fee competitions/contests, paying submission calls, and jobs for those of us who write (especially those of us who write fiction, poetry, and creative nonfiction). Continue reading ›

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Monday Markets for Writers: No Fees, Paying Gigs

dollar-sign-mdMonday brings the weekly batch of no-fee competitions/contests, paying submission calls, and jobs for those of us who write (especially those of us who write fiction, poetry, and creative nonfiction). Continue reading ›

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Sunday Sentence

Diary-of-the-Fall_06-242x390In which I participate in David Abrams’s “Sunday Sentence” project, sharing the best sentence I’ve read during the past week, “out of context and without commentary.”

My grandfather lost a brother in Auschwitz, and another brother in Auschwitz, and a third brother in Auschwitz, and his father and his mother in Auschwitz, and his girlfriend of the time in Auschwitz, and at least one cousin and one aunt in Auschwitz, and who knows how many friends in Auschwitz, how many neighbors, how many work colleagues, how many people he would have been quite close to had he not been the only one to survive and set off on a boat for Brazil and spend the rest of his life without ever mentioning any of their names.

Source: Diary of the Fall, by Michel Laub, translated from the Portuguese by Margaret Jull Costa

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