It wouldn't be autumn if I wasn't in some kind of weird codependent relationship with squirrels. Yesterday at 10:45, I began this acorn triptych. Over the next six hours, they created parts II and III.
I'm pleased to report that my piece, "Family Jeopardy" (which ran originally in The Rumpus's "Funny Women" series), was awarded honorable mention in the adult category of the Mark Twain House's 2015 Royal Nonesuch National Humor Writing Contest. To quote the man himself, "These splendid facts strain belief; but they are true."
About a month ago, walking my dogs, I came upon this piece of a branch in the middle of the road. I liked the composition--the bend in the stick, the one missing cone, the way another cone stands apart from the rest, as if considering its own flight--so I brought it home and set it on an outdoor table. Initially, I saw the branch as an inert thing. So I was surprised to find the cones responding to the weather. After rain, they're shrunken and hard--dark brown pods. When the sun comes back, they unfurl again. I wonder how long this cycling will continue?
A friend from grad school, Susanna Baird (she's a writer too), just posted the loveliest-ever photo of Genie Wishes--her daughter's worn copy. From the peeling back cover to the fingerprinty front cover, it's all evidence that the book has been read, and for a writer, there's nothing better than that.
Thanks, Susanna and Annalise. If Genie Haddock Kunkle were a real person, I know she'd want to make Halloween costumes with you.