Wow. Something so simple and yet so profoundly full of meaning. A pen. And the time it took to send it. I'm so glad you fought with yourself long enough to stay there...waiting in line...choosing you (for once?).
Fought with myself —such a perfect way of putting it, Linda. Yes. And to this day, I carry her blessing. Also, choosing me. Um. Yes. Not something I'm good at.
Beth -- Fae Myenne Ng -- Thank you for returning her to me. I loved Bone all those years ago and will seek out her other two books. It was thrilling that a great writer so sweetly lifted up another great writer at the beginning of her illustrious career. xx
Every single time I read your writing I want to write. I do write. I pick up a pen and write. Yesterday I was writing something about women articulating what they need. Acting on it. Making a bit noise about their own needs and achievements. Inconveniencing others when the impulse is to caretaker first. This piece made me wept a little because I didn’t do any of that especially when I had young children. I should have. I do now. Telling story like this is so necessary in the lives of women creatives. So we know to be braver and self caring. Gorgeous piece. Thank you.
Bernadette, I was all wrapped up in a quilt and heating pad trying to breathe yesterday when I found your words. They made ME weep a little. Because I share this with you, this putting of others first, and I wonder what might have been, as do you. And then I console myself with what we have right now. This moment of now and our more wiser selves. Thank you.
Oh I hope you feel better soon. Take care. That someone is caring for you:) Your words resonant wisely. The moment is now and it is probably was all we ever had. I loved my time as a mother. So I also remind myself that a lot of that caring for others was/is beautiful and was a part of my journey toward being whole. Who I am now. But now is a time for finally being braver, following my personal path and putting boundaries around that. Embracing this chance. Take care.
This is powerful on multiple levels. All that has already been mentioned, but what stands out to me is more than the reverence for this writer’s knowing what you needed, the visceral expression of everything from your placement in the back (that ability to be both within the experience and also the observer), the author’s voice, sounds, and cadences, but this: Your description of her spare writing is so totally how I see yours. I’m guessing it’s not you learning craft from her, but an early permission to write from that part of you. I love stories with opening doors.
Deb, this is an extraordinary compliment, your words. Yes. The permission to write was a gift from Fae. The permission to say, But might I just have a moment please for this thing that may go nowhere, or may be nothing, or may just be what my mind needs, my heart, too. Thank yo so very much.
Generosity and encouragement—a perfect combination to read now especially. I’m going back to read the first line of a novel I’m about to turn in, while banging on a table. Thanks Beth!
Lisa, I'd been thinking a lot about this — remembering the good, celebrating it, right now. Carolyn Forche and Natalie Kusz and Fae Myenne Ng, and, very early in the life of this Substack, Michael Ondaatje. These writers who looked across the void and found me. There are others. And I will tell their stories, for the matter so much right now.
Such a beautiful story. Of time and a simple, and yet complex, gift. Gift and gift and… It doesn’t end, really, the reverberations of a kindness, a recognition perhaps, a gift of what one has been gifted. And the giving continues—I am grateful for the gifts you have just given me: an author’s name, a delightful tale to ponder, and a boot in the seat of the pants to drop the excuses and get back to the work of rewriting my novels (and finishing others). I have received “my pen” and my instructions. And a smile. Thank you, Beth. I will pass it on.
Marc, what a beautiful way of seeing this story and its echoes across time—over and through. And the idea of this post being a pen to you — I am genuinely touched by that. Thank you.
Beautiful! This brought tears to my eyes, Beth. The grace of being heard, believed in, supported. As a reward for choosing you, for having the courage and determination to do what you needed for yourself. Thank you.
Susan, yes. This. Precisely as you write it here. I chose myself. And something happened. I wonder, now, if I should choose myself again, and more. Perhaps we all should.
Absolutely. We are trained as women to choose for others before ourselves, and that diminishes the gifts we bring to this world. Choosing for ourselves is not necessarily selfish, it is, however, necessary.
Thank you, dear Beth, for this vulnerable, eye-opening post. You are always eloquent, regardless of what you imagine. Always eloquent, in thought and word. Thank you.
I'm thrilled to see that Ng has a new book -- and a memoir, at that! Cannot wait to order. Bone was my favorite novel for years! Thank you, Beth, for always keeping us up to the date on what we need to be reading! You're the best!
Wow. Something so simple and yet so profoundly full of meaning. A pen. And the time it took to send it. I'm so glad you fought with yourself long enough to stay there...waiting in line...choosing you (for once?).
Fought with myself —such a perfect way of putting it, Linda. Yes. And to this day, I carry her blessing. Also, choosing me. Um. Yes. Not something I'm good at.
Yeah…I can relate!
Seen by great writer,
she’s now paying it forward.
Though time flies backward.
smiles
Riding an arrow of time. A young child tended. The gift of a pen, a kindness. Thirty-plus years on, look what that has done. Wonderful!
It's pretty remarkable, really. How much a gesture can mean, over the course of a life.
Beth -- Fae Myenne Ng -- Thank you for returning her to me. I loved Bone all those years ago and will seek out her other two books. It was thrilling that a great writer so sweetly lifted up another great writer at the beginning of her illustrious career. xx
You are incredibly sweet yourself, Judy. Thank you.
Every single time I read your writing I want to write. I do write. I pick up a pen and write. Yesterday I was writing something about women articulating what they need. Acting on it. Making a bit noise about their own needs and achievements. Inconveniencing others when the impulse is to caretaker first. This piece made me wept a little because I didn’t do any of that especially when I had young children. I should have. I do now. Telling story like this is so necessary in the lives of women creatives. So we know to be braver and self caring. Gorgeous piece. Thank you.
Bernadette, I was all wrapped up in a quilt and heating pad trying to breathe yesterday when I found your words. They made ME weep a little. Because I share this with you, this putting of others first, and I wonder what might have been, as do you. And then I console myself with what we have right now. This moment of now and our more wiser selves. Thank you.
Oh I hope you feel better soon. Take care. That someone is caring for you:) Your words resonant wisely. The moment is now and it is probably was all we ever had. I loved my time as a mother. So I also remind myself that a lot of that caring for others was/is beautiful and was a part of my journey toward being whole. Who I am now. But now is a time for finally being braver, following my personal path and putting boundaries around that. Embracing this chance. Take care.
The sentences must rise above the chaos! I hope you're fully recovered.
Thank you, Nancy. To sentences that rise above. And to kicking (someday) this flu in the butt.
This is powerful on multiple levels. All that has already been mentioned, but what stands out to me is more than the reverence for this writer’s knowing what you needed, the visceral expression of everything from your placement in the back (that ability to be both within the experience and also the observer), the author’s voice, sounds, and cadences, but this: Your description of her spare writing is so totally how I see yours. I’m guessing it’s not you learning craft from her, but an early permission to write from that part of you. I love stories with opening doors.
Deb, this is an extraordinary compliment, your words. Yes. The permission to write was a gift from Fae. The permission to say, But might I just have a moment please for this thing that may go nowhere, or may be nothing, or may just be what my mind needs, my heart, too. Thank yo so very much.
Generosity and encouragement—a perfect combination to read now especially. I’m going back to read the first line of a novel I’m about to turn in, while banging on a table. Thanks Beth!
Lisa, I'd been thinking a lot about this — remembering the good, celebrating it, right now. Carolyn Forche and Natalie Kusz and Fae Myenne Ng, and, very early in the life of this Substack, Michael Ondaatje. These writers who looked across the void and found me. There are others. And I will tell their stories, for the matter so much right now.
Such a beautiful story. Of time and a simple, and yet complex, gift. Gift and gift and… It doesn’t end, really, the reverberations of a kindness, a recognition perhaps, a gift of what one has been gifted. And the giving continues—I am grateful for the gifts you have just given me: an author’s name, a delightful tale to ponder, and a boot in the seat of the pants to drop the excuses and get back to the work of rewriting my novels (and finishing others). I have received “my pen” and my instructions. And a smile. Thank you, Beth. I will pass it on.
Marc, what a beautiful way of seeing this story and its echoes across time—over and through. And the idea of this post being a pen to you — I am genuinely touched by that. Thank you.
Beautiful! This brought tears to my eyes, Beth. The grace of being heard, believed in, supported. As a reward for choosing you, for having the courage and determination to do what you needed for yourself. Thank you.
Susan, yes. This. Precisely as you write it here. I chose myself. And something happened. I wonder, now, if I should choose myself again, and more. Perhaps we all should.
Absolutely. We are trained as women to choose for others before ourselves, and that diminishes the gifts we bring to this world. Choosing for ourselves is not necessarily selfish, it is, however, necessary.
Thank you, dear Beth, for this vulnerable, eye-opening post. You are always eloquent, regardless of what you imagine. Always eloquent, in thought and word. Thank you.
You are infinitely kind, Linda. Wherever and however we meet.
inspirational Beth! Must read this book. Now.
Frieda, BONE will take you backward and backward, toward the essential near truth. Ride its arrow of time.
Wow. What a story. What encouragement. What it has led to. And all of us being touched, taught as you were.
You are a huge whole soul, Cathy.
Thank you for sharing this great writer. I’m watching, listening, learning from her talk you linked to YouTube. Great story about paying it forward 🙏
I love that you are listening to her, Mimi! I love that so much. Master class in goodness.
I'm thrilled to see that Ng has a new book -- and a memoir, at that! Cannot wait to order. Bone was my favorite novel for years! Thank you, Beth, for always keeping us up to the date on what we need to be reading! You're the best!
My beautiful friend, how do we always end up loving the same books? How in the world? I am so blessed to know you.
Blessed, indeed. That's me, knowing you.
I love this! I didn’t know this story, and I don’t know her book. Thank you for bringing it to us!
Karen, just as i am endlessly learning so much about you — and loving that....