Free Papers and Essays on Walking Around By Pablo Neruda
I just added a new recipe under, well, recipes, of course. It's low guilt mac 'n cheese and you might as well make it tonight. You will not be sorry. For one thing, if there's any left over, it's heavenly for lunch. And if you let your dog lick the pan, he'll appreciate it.
Events are starting to be booked for the new novel, Once Upon A Time, There Was You. I'll put a description of the book and a quote from it on the website once we have a jacket--we still don't have a jacket. It comes out April 5th.
Today is one of those drab winter days with little flakes of snow chasing themselves around, first slanting to the right, then to the left, then just kind of hanging in the air like they're at a bad party. The best thing would be for me to go for a brisk walk. So what do I do? Eat two (2) pieces of Boston Cream pie. Which was delicious. If my doctor is reading this, I'm just kidding. I really ate a spinach salad with no dressing. And some.....what? Brewer's yeast.
I got to be in conversation with Lynda Barry on stage at Unity Temple on Tuesday. She has a new book out called "Picture This" which is ostensibly about drawing, but to my mind says a lot about creativity in general. She urges people to "trust the back of your mind." Reading this book frees you up inside, no matter who you are or what you do. In addition to that, Lynda Barry is the queen of the evocative phrase. Garrison Keillor once said, "All you have to do is say rhubarb pie and the reader does the rest." When Lynda's talking about summer, she uses these phrases: standing on the back porch in your underwear, crossing hot asphalt with bare feet, talking into a fan. When you're next in the bookstore, take her book into a corner and start at the beginning and see if you don't get charmed pretty quickly. Then buy it.
And now, its time for MAILBAG!!
T. B. from Boise, Idaho, is a 56-year old nurse who writes: "Thanks for giving voice to many thoughts and feelings inside this woman's heart. We don't know each other, but I feel that we are friends. Your books are friends to me." This was her first time writing to an author. If only I were Oprah, I would send her a Cadillac convertible for that.
A. R. from Anderson, S.C. sent a really thoughtful letter about the longing she has to be writer. She also talks about how many of my female characters feel stifled in traditional roles, and asks if I ever felt that overwhelming desire to run away. Oh, honey, don't we all? I think all of us, men and women, have days when the open road holds particular allure. I used to find it so odd that sometimes when I was feeling really terrible, I would go to the mall and buy a new book or some red lipstick and feel so much better. It seemed to illegtimize my feelings. But the truth is, sometimes it just doesn't take very much to bring us out of our despair. (Sometimes it does, but that's another story.)
S. K. from Ona, W. Virginia writes, interestingly, "I'm given to jumping in the car and taking spontaneous mini-trips." She should go on over to S.C. and pick up A Ragan. Isn't that a good idea?
A. W. sent a beautiful letter about our shared appreciation for Paris and Pablo Neruda and Erik Satie. And with testimonoy about continuing to love people close to us when the going gets tough.
J. R. just read The Day I Ate Whatever I Wanted, and she sent a letter praising the short story form. Yes! Tell all your friends! Short stories are great!
I wanted to share more letters, but Homer just came up and put his nose on my knee, and looked up at me. Which is his way of saying, "Man, are you STILL at the computer?"
To which I say, "Yes, yes, just a minute, I'll take you out in a minute." To which he says, "That's what you always say and then you just sit there and sit there and sit there and type type type. What's so great about typing? There are SQUIRRELS outside! Rabbits1 Mailmen! Pieces of I-don't-know-what gross stuff stuck to the ground for me to quick gobble up before you can yell at me or jerk me away!Let's go, man! Let's go! Come on!" "In a minute," I say, and he lies down and sighs out his nose and and just gives up and now I feel terrible so I'm taking Homer for a walk. Then I'm going downtown to the great city of Chicago to see a play and have dinner with a girlfriend. This is even better than red lipstick.
Walking Around Analysis Pablo Neruda - Elite Skills
People need hope more than ever in tough political times-like these.
That's why I've comprehensively updated The Impossible, mixing my own essays on hope with the voices of some of the most eloquent writers and activists around, adding new contributions and working clsoely with the authors to update existing ones. Think Nelson Mandela, Maya Angelou, Bill Moyers, Arundhati Roy, Tony Kushner,Bill McKibben, Paul Hawken, Pablo Neruda and Vaclav Havel. Alice Walker, Mary Pipher, Jonathan Kozol, Diane Ackerman, and Marian Wright Edelman. Cornel West, Terry Tempest Williams, Dan Savage, Desmond Tutu, and Howard Zinn. These essays, poems, and stories teach us how to keep on working for a more humane world, replenish the wellsprings of our commitment, and continue no matter how hard it sometimes seems.
I've included pieces that explore the historical, political, ecological and spiritual frameworks that help us to persist with concrete examples of how people have faced despair and overcome it. They examine what it was like to confront South African apartheid, the Eastern European and Egyptian dictatorships, Mississippi's entrenched segregation, the corporations driving global climate change, or the Robber Barons of 100 years ago. They look at what keeps us going day after day in more humble struggles as well. This book teaches us, in the words of Sojourners founder Jim Wallis, to learn how to believe in spite of the evidence, then watch the evidence change.
See The Impossible's annotated below, or click to read its wholly updated . You can also find information on , including that you also work well for reading groups, and examples like a Minnesota Community College that assigned the book in , from sociology to health classes and student multimedia projects. And click here for ,
I just wrote a long piece to go under this date, and then did something that made it all disappear. I am admiring of all its fancy tricks, but I have to tell you: I hate computers. I really do. I despair of everything we've lost in order to gain the conveniences. I used to send my editor finished manuscripts tied with beautiful ribbons and now when I submit a mss I just hit a stupid button. Letters are all but dead despite all the swell stationery available and I am as guilty as the next guy because I hardly ever write letters any more, not even to my mother who LOVES letters but the thing is I always feel like she already knows everything and my letters to her would just say, "Well, as you know...." (I do get many many letters from readers and I have sung their praises before and will again later in this entry.) People are spending way too much time in front of screens, myself included. I'll tell you, I am ready for a rocker to put on the front porch, where I can sit and bitch all day about how I hate and fear modern times in general and technology in particular. The only thing I like is that we don't have to dial nines and zeros anymore; I do approve of touch-tone. I am ready to start my new town: Ludditeville With Touch Tone. If you would like to join, please hitch up your horse to your wagon and come on over. We will have lots of chickens, which I also saw in Wisconsin. I saw a bunch of chickens and the rooster sounded just like a person trying to sound just like him, if you know what I mean. Er-er-er-er-ERRR! And the lady chickens all walking around muttering under their breaths making those comforting cluck-cluck-cluck sounds, those maiden aunt, now, now-don't-you-worry-about-a-thing sounds. Those lady chickens really need aprons tied around their waists, not the bib ones of course, just ones that tie around their waists. Such as they are. Those lady chickens really seem like the cozy relatives who invite you over for roast chicken on a Sunday, but HOW WEIRD WOULD THAT BE?
Before I was so RUDELY INTERRUPTED by my computer error, I was telling about a walk I took in Wisconsin the other night, the rolling acres of dark fields full of fireflies. It was like a firefly convention. Well, more to the point, considering what that flashing signifies, it was like a firefly Woodstock, all that endless, wanton availability. And before the fireflies came out the sky got colored a deep red, then pink, then the lightest of pinks. And before that the sky had been that blue of picture books and the land the greenest of greens. I really like green and blue together. I see that I have a lot of it in my house. Also I have a lot of butter, for which I am sure to now be vindicated on account of the movie Julie and Julia which I am going to see today. I'm not eating popcorn in there. No. I'm thinking beef burgundy and pommes frites.
I got a letter from a reader named Jim, who told me about how he had started painting again after he read Home Safe. He sent a card featuring a lovely watercolor called "White Lillies with Hens and Chickens "(not chicken- chickens, although imagine how thrilled I was at the very possibility. No he painted hens and chickens, the plants). The other watercolor was called " Purple Globe Thistle with Lillies." Just to say those titles puts me in a good mood: the world is generous with beauty, even if it is polluted with computers. Another letter from a woman named Alison said she read The Day I Ate Whatever I Wanted and she was "lying on my bed alternately laughing and weeping all afternoon."
I just turned in the next novel and I suppose I'm throwing caution to the wind when I tell you I love this book. I really do. I loved writing it because I loved being with the characters. It's about a 40th high school reunion, and it's from five points of view. It's called THE LAST TIME I SAW YOU. Lots of humor in this one. Well, there'd have to be. A bunch of old farts back out on the dance floor, feeling eighteen again.
I fear I have now forgotten how to put recipes on my site (I really need to rent a room to a kid who knows how to do all this stuff and says "Ugkay" in that breezy way young people do) but I'm going to try anyway. My daughter Julie had a party and her husband's Aunt Cheryl (who is a fabulous cook) brought brownies that practically made my head spin around like in The Exorcist. These are just incredible, I'm not kidding. Even my sister who doesn't even like brownies loved these. Please make them. Make sure there are others about because you cannot stop eating them. I'm not kidding.
Finally, speaking of food, you may be aware that I did an essay on NPR for "You Must Read This." I talked about my favorite cookbook, "Beat This." If you missed it, you can see it online. On your damn computer. Just put "Ann Hodgman, Elizabeth Berg" in google. Do this because I don't know how to provide a link, surprise. (And if you do read it and like it, please hit the "recommend" button, that would make the producer so so so happy. And me.) But anyway, the response was so great they sold out and people were selling copies for over $200. DO NOT BUY THESE COOKBOOKS AT INFLATED PRICES. The publisher is going to reprint "Beat This" (a new and revised edition, I can't wait) and I think you can still get "Beat That" for regular prices.
Okay, breakfast time. Then Homer gets a walk. Then I need to work. Then I'm going to the movie. Thursday I'm going to babysit my grandchildren for three days. I can hardly wait to make them like me best. Bribing is so not beneath me.