Personal Essays

The Rickety Table

The table we made was not actually stable. The part professionally assembled—the table top—was solid, but the frame was wobbly, swoony, prone to dancing with sporadic, awkward movements, like a suburban mom trying Zumba for the first time.

The Gap Between

Here in the waiting, there’s a restlessness that’s not countered by the distraction of a settled new reality. We aren’t exchanging one version of life for another. No, we are leaving one version of life behind and still waiting to find out why and what for.

Then I Got a Book Deal

After a tidal wave of rejections, I stopped working on the book and took a job as a technical writer. I let my writing dreams hibernate for a while and it felt like a relief. A year and half later, at the exact moment I could not have been thinking about writing any less, my father-in-law introduced me to a new publisher friend of his.