by Deborah Lee Luskin | Jun 28, 2016 | Living in Place
I once heard Malachy McCourt begin a commencement address memorable for its brazen wisdom. “If you’ve got one foot in the future and one foot in the past,” he said, “it means you’re pissing on the present.” I was reminded of this vivid image as I was lamenting the...
by Deborah Lee Luskin | Jun 22, 2016 | Living in Place
The summer calendar begins with Memorial Day even though the season starts on the solstice. Here in the West River Valley of southern Vermont, my summer calendar is filled with local events, fairs and festivals celebrated each year in our community.Around here,...
by Deborah Lee Luskin | Jun 15, 2016 | Living in Place
As a child, summers seemed endless. I played hopscotch, tag, and running bases with the kids on my street, and I spent two timeless weeks at the beach with my family, where I was toasted by sun and tumbled by waves. The season’s good weather and expansive leisure was...
by Deborah Lee Luskin | Jun 14, 2016 | Living in Place
Sometimes, weeding is the best way to learn how to write. Thinning plants can be as painful as deleting favorite passages of description or dialogue, and just as essential. If seedlings in my garden are two crowded, none of them thrive; if my page is crammed with too...
by Deborah Lee Luskin | Jun 8, 2016 | Living in Place
We had a rainy Sunday, the kind of cool, overcast day preparing to dissolve into rain, the kind of day best spent reading on the couch, the sort of Sunday for reading the New York Times. I planned to pick up a copy at the general store when it opened. In the meantime,...
by Deborah Lee Luskin | May 31, 2016 | Living in Place
“How long it take to write a book?” my dad asks. “It depends,” I answer. “How long does it have to be?” “As long as it needs,” I reply. “How long is the book you’re writing?” “It was four hundred pages.” I say. “Four hundred pages!” he says. “Wow!” “But now it’s just...
