Jackie's Story

Jackie went looking for some poster paint in her office and as she was rifling through the drawer she thought it was in, she ran across a recent letter she’d written to her oldest friend. She sat down on the floor cross-legged and read it.

Hollywood or Bust

Hollywood or Bust or

Before we were Baby Boomers…

Adventures of two young women in Hollywood in the 60’s

Do you believe in Magic…?

I remember the day we drove away, backing out of the long driveway in Ellie’s green and white 1957 Ford Fairlane, waving “goodbye” to my mother, who had a big towel wrapped around her freshly washed hair--a few Auburn locks escaping the towel. Ellie was crying and we were tingling with excitement. Not that we weren’t sad too, but we were on our way to our new lives—via Highway 101 from Merced, California to Carmel and Monterey on our way down to L.A., then Hollywood. Of course, we loved Carmel and Monterey, stopping by Hearst Castle and Big Sur and eating too much of both brown and white chocolate from a candy store in Carmel. I’d never had white chocolate before, and I loved it.

A Mother's Gift (a memoir)

(c) Christine Menefee 2018

In the early 1970's, after escaping a foolhardy and damaging relationship, I found myself living again with my parents while I started over in the Washington, DC area. One day I heard a story on National Public Radio about the consequences of a nuclear bomb. This was not a new subject, since I'd grown up during the time when Hiroshima and Nagasaki were a recent memory and above ground nuclear testing was constant, but to be honest, I'd forgotten about the horrors of nuclear weapons in the face of my own coming-of-age war, the one in Vietnam, as both it and my life went from bad to worse.

tenderly-deborah-kerr

 

Click on the image to go to Tangren's book in progress

Sheʼs often evoked through opposites.

The story of her “being discovered” is of

a Gabriel whose annunciation came in

these words: “Sweet virgin, are you an

actress?”

Open Letter to my Sangha

Open Letter to My Sangha:
Beginning the New Year as a Community of Writers

H. Ní Aódagaín

Like many folk, I spent the New Year's weekend among friends, raising toasts and stating resolutions. As I listened to the writers in the crowd, a common theme emerged: we each, in our own way, were setting new goals concerning our writing and making a renewed commitment to the writing life. These conversations led me to compare the community of writers I belong to with another community, which exists in the Buddhist tradition, the sangha.