Category Archives: Dreaming on Paper

Yerbied

I had an hour to kill before attending the reception at the Augusta Literary Festival this past Friday. The reception took place in a banquet hall in the main branch of the library. I went upstairs and browsed the fiction … Continue reading

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The Mind, too, has its Erections

In “Swimming with Oliver,” a memoir/essay about my twenty-year friendship with Oliver Sacks (to be published this coming Spring in the Colorado Review), the following passage occurs: On the way back from [a driving tour to] Canada, we discuss possible titles for … Continue reading

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My Great Uncle & James Joyce

My father rarely spoke about his family. I didn’t learn that he was Jewish until after he died, when at his funeral a stranger approached me with this news. In fact he descended from two prominent Italian Jewish families. Among his … Continue reading

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At the Petite Musée de Montmartre

I left the petite Musée de Montmartre, forgetting my plastic bag, the one in which I carried my notebook, my glasses, my pen box, the one the museum receptionist made me check, eliciting a muttered remark from me to the effect … Continue reading

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