Occasionally, my brain will spit something out, and I’ll read it afterward and think, “Hey, this isn’t terrible.” If I’m in a particularly optimistic mood (usually achieved by listening to too much Springsteen and eating baked goods), I’ll start to think that what I’ve written is sort of brilliant. And if the baked goods are…
My father lives in a rural part of Bavaria, surrounded by farmland. The air is rich with the smell of cows and manure, and traffic jams are caused by tractors. Should you think I am being hyperbolic on that last point: –
– I’ve been having a lot of trouble blogging lately. It’s something I’ve been trying to ignore – throwing up a post here and there, attempting to make them funny and light when frankly, my heart just hasn’t been in it. I originally started this blog for Rand. Having been cursed since birth to roam…
– One of the things I love about any friendship is when you create shared memories together. It pushes you from the realm of merely “people who get along” into the world of “people who have been through some shit together.” It opens up the door to inside jokes and stories that begin with, “Remember…
Sunday was a landmark of sorts, and it passed without me realizing it. That, I suppose, was most significant at all. Sunday was the four-month anniversary of my surgery. At some point, I’d stopped counting the days since my brain surgery, and then the weeks, and now, it seems, the months. Rand had left town…
– Have you ever returned from a trip, or a party, some sort of special, I-really-should-take-photos kind of event, and realize that you took barely any photos at all? You may have a handful of them, but they are blurry or poorly-composed or they make you think “Why in god’s name did I take a…
– FAQ pages have always bothered me. They seem kind of lazy. Like, if someone goes through the trouble of sending you an email and asking you a question, the least you could do would be to answer them in kind, right? That was before I started getting emails. Holy cats. I can’t actually believe…
It’s been six weeks since my surgery. My surgeon said that it would take about six weeks until I felt completely like myself again. Six weeks until I was more or less recovered. And he was right. I feel like myself. More or less. I feel more tired. And more sensitive. Literally. I have a…
I’ve heard that writers are never really done with the books they’ve written. That there are sentences they’d wished they could change, long after the book goes to print. That even after it hits the shelves and the reviews are in, it haunts them like the memory of an old love they can’t seem to…
Tales of Food, Feminism, and Fury
by Geraldine DeRuiter
Available Now!
In Hardback, e-book, and audiobook from these booksellers:
