Because of the SoCal Fires, the Oct 12th Reading at the Open Book in Santa Clarita has been rescheduled to December. But you can still catch me in Northridge this Saturday, the 19th and next Saturday, the 26th.
Eddy is about the sickness – his alleged attempted overdose by opium a year before his actual death.
Jane Craig Stanton
A mother one of his friends who encouraged his poetry, he described her as his first “soul love.”
She was the daughter of a wealthy businessman who didn’t appreciate Edgar; When Poe went off to college, her father kept all his letters from her. When Edgar came back to town, her father scurried her off to the countryside so they couldn’t see one another. By the time Edgar returned from college for good, she was betrowed to someone else.
His cousin whom he met when she was thirteen. They married later, and seemed to have a relationship that rivaled the best storybook romances until her death.
He was engaged to her for a short time, as they respected each other’s work.
Widowed and free – Edgar sought her out and romanced her again. They were engaged when he died.
(This is a repost from Feb 2015)
Since then, I’ve published a number of books, including one inspired by the loves of Edgar Allan Poe. Check out Eddy:
Writing with kids is more challenging than writing on an upside down rollercoaster.
I am the proud Nana to a beautiful baby boy whom I get to play with pretty often. AND I LOVE IT!
But when my kids were young, I’d be lucky if I got one day of writing done. I’d journal at night, in secret, in the dark, in my room.
Stephen King and Dan Brown say they write every day. Brown writes from 4am to 11am every morning. And they have kids!
But, see, they also have wives! The wives get the kids up, feed them, take them to school or make the dentist or doctor appointments, stay home when the kids or sick or stay up all night with the sick kid. Or at least, this is what I imagine. I don’t actually know because I’ve never read in an interview in which they talk about their wives. Hmmm.
Some women writers have accomplished finished products and publications while being a parent. YAY! Let’s hear it for them. That is quite a task. I’m not sure how they did it, but I do give them kudos. I wonder if they hired a wife to help – you think??
I had the unfortunate displeasure of spending time with people I’m not fond of. I am barely able to tolerate negative people. I can’t stand people who are so mired in their own sense of self importance or righteousness that they can’t see beyond their own bullshit.
I came away regretting my decision to go and feeling very nasty inside, as if a piece of my soul had been burned away. I sat with it all night, no television, no radio, nothing to drown out or distract myself from the boiling nastiness of an impression they left on me.
Then I thought – I’ve never written anything about them. And I can see why. I never want to deal with them or be around them or even think about them ever, ever again.
But that inspired something. One woman has a big round face that appears to be growing from another face. Her husband stared at me as if he was planning the perfect recipe for my kidneys, liver, heart. “A slaw, soaked in buttermilk and vinegar.” I’m pretty sure I heard him say as he passed by.
And then the keepers of the whole chud-like crew.
I’ve been known to write some pretty dark things. People like this are the reason why.
Untitled, but begun.
I will give these soul sucking people a different life. I’m sure they won’t like – if they bother to recognize – themselves.
This will give that scent of madness, the sickly feeling of food poisoning filling my bodily cavities, some place to go and rest.
Use it, ladies and gentlemen, use all the things and people and places you don’t like to fuel your writing.