“There was something I wanted to feel, and I felt it only when I was writing.” (from “The Curse”)

I remarked to my husband that it’s good and scary for me to read excellent essays like the ones in this collection because they simultaneously make me want to write and make me afraid to write. It's a small comfort (tinged with despair) to be reminded that even the most deft writers are afraid, too. The author says about the Iowa Writers’ Workshop:

“I applied because I was afraid of losing something I lost anyway, and I went because I got in. I hoped to find some protection from oblivion, from my own shortcomings, from the culture’s relentless attack on the stories of people like me. I don’t know if I’ve found that, or if I ever will. I still fear those things. I still face them. And for now, I’m still here.” (from “My Parade”)

I was stunned by the whole thing: stories of his undergrad and MFA, what it was like to grow up as a biracial kid, his activism in San Francisco, his rose garden. I read a library copy, but I need my own for reference. I want to go back and take in the heart of the essays and examine the technique. There’s so much here, and I raced through it this time because I couldn’t stop myself.