Do you write novels?" I said.
"Novels, Lord no," she said. "I can't even stay married.
Tag: humor art writing commitment
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The more important question, of course, was what the new Lucy would do, and even though I was pretty sure the old Lucy wouldn't be around much anymore, I was a little bit afraid the new Lucy hadn't yet shown up.
Pam HoustonTag: fear change growth inertia self-invention
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Writers, it is said, all carry a chip of ice in their hearts
Pam HoustonWe are up in the attic doing a jigsaw puzzle, which may be the single fastest way one OCD person reveals herself to another.
Pam HoustonFind yourself a place in the universe,' she said, 'a place where the dirt feels like goodness under your feet. Take the right picture and a man will walk into it. If you can bear him even a little, then for a while let him stay.
Pam HoustonPeople are supposed to accumulate, I thought, as they get older, but I seem to be sloughing off, like a person wrapped in a hundred layers of cellophane, tearing one layer off at a time, trying to get down to me.
Pam HoustonIf I die tonight it will be with every single thing unfinished (like, I suppose, any other night), and yet, what a gift to die on the verge of tears. I have spent my life trying to understand the way this rock and this ache go together, why a granite peak is more dramatic half dressed in clouds...,why sunlight under fog is better than the sum of its parts, why my best days and my worst days are always the same days, why (often) leaving seems like the only solution to the predicament of loving (each other) the world.
Pam Houstonwhat if you could have all the wisdom of a lifetime and still look like you looked when you were twenty-five'
'or what?' I say.
'what, what' she says.
I say, 'I thought we were playing Would You Rather...?'
She twists her head like a dog at a foghorn. 'Marla,' I say, 'you get the wisdom because you don't anymore look like you did when you were twenty-five.'
She says, 'You don't understand the rules to this game.
I still don't see how it would make me feel any better to think of the pain in my hip and spine as anything other than my most loyal and valuable companion, the continuous nonvoice in my ear that says, You got out alive and you still get to go.
Pam Houston...the purser has something resembling joy in her voice when she welcomes us to San Francisco. 'I probably don't need to tell you all to open the overhead bins with caution,' she says. 'If your contents haven't shifted, you must be carrying lead weights.
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