Category Archives: Memoir
priorities
My father was a half-ass Witness. He liked to pour over the New Testament at meals, pointing out the sudden death of harlots in between bites but he never, ever went door-to-door. According to Jehovah’s by-laws, all good Witnesses are … Continue reading
a princess in portland
My picture was an awkward mess. On my grandmother’s mantel it blended in with the other twenty photos of when I lost my first tooth or got a sleeping bag for Christmas but blown-up and placed in a glass cabinet … Continue reading
Filed under Memoir
dodging the bullet
My mother wondered out loud why I wasn’t married. We were standing in the window of her country kitchen watching her fourth husband hunt small birds in the driveway of their California cul-de-sac. My stepfather, a man who hated anyone … Continue reading
Filed under Memoir
