Tag Archives: Mud of the Place
Detour
Yes indeed, the president and first family are here. They arrived yesterday. I’ve been saying for years that if you’ve seen one presidential visit, you’ve seen them all. This is not quite true. The first — by President Clinton in … Continue reading
Plot
Plotting fiction is like making rock candy. Left to itself, boiled sugar water just sits there. Nothing happens. Well, yes, things happen, but they take so long that it’s a rare soul who’ll just sit there and watch. Not the … Continue reading
Benefit Art Show
After reading The Mud of the Place a friend told me, “I’ve never met any of these people, but I feel like I could run into any of them in the grocery store.” Maybe my favorite compliment ever, not least … Continue reading
Newtown
I wasn’t going to blog about Newtown. “Mud of the place” and all that: my feet aren’t in the mud of that place, and I’m trying to watch where my mouth is. On the other hand, I do have my … Continue reading
Faith
The other day word went round that a friend’s sign had been stolen from its accustomed place at the end of his road. This wasn’t just any sign: it’s unique, hand-crafted and -painted, and big enough to be legible from … Continue reading
Writing About MV
When I moved to Martha’s Vineyard in the summer of 1985, I’d saved enough money to take a frugal year off from my frugal real life and work on the novel I’d started a few years before, tentatively titled Coming … Continue reading
Who’s an Islander?
On Martha’s Vineyard, “Islander” is what the academics would call a contested term, which is to say not only that there’s considerable disagreement about what it means but also that some people are willing to fight about it and many … Continue reading
Death of an Indy Bookstore
Earlier this week I learned that Edgartown Books was closing for good at the end of February. I’m sorry, yes, not least because Edgartown Books took enough interest in my novel, The Mud of the Place, to keep it in … Continue reading
Bookstores Are Not Sacred Cows
I was a bookseller before I moved to Martha’s Vineyard: book and magazine buyer for Lammas, D.C.’s feminist bookstore. One of the best jobs I ever had. Books are the only thing I can imagine selling in good conscience. Like … Continue reading
The Most Important Credential
In the late fall of 1976, I was driving west on the Boston Post Road (Route 20) toward my evening job as a proofreader in Sudbury. West of Wayland in those days, the Post Road was a sleepy two-lane road … Continue reading
From the Seasonally Occupied Territories . . . 