I know Doris Duke would have enjoyed seeing the statue of a little girl confronting the bull of Wall Street.
Posts on the writing of my upcoming book
Where, now, are the women writers we could call “outrageous”?
I’m asking you, my able and loyal readers, to “come too” as I head into yet another revision of my biography on Doris Duke. Originally set to be published in 2016, it is now delayed until October, 2018.
Charlotte Brontë described the alienation that colored my childhood, and the childhood of so many girls, then and now.
Pip and I were on to adventure, on the edge of danger, full of life and energy—the way I want to live.
Memorial Day, commenced in 1866 as Decoration Day, was at first specifically meant to honor the Confederate dead; when it became a national holiday in 1921, it was renamed to honor the dead in all our wars, another effort to erase differences and commodify mourning.
I am now reading, and occasionally wrestling with, what might be call the collision—or the creative cooperation—of two minds, essentially different: the mind of the writer and the mind of the editor.
The long waits publishing entrails always make me wonder why writers sometimes refer to their new books as their children; surely no pregnancy lasts two years or more, and few professional writers wait to see their next book launched before laboring mightily to begin the next one.
For my “Doris,” a home at the university her father founded…you will understand my delight and appreciation as well as my humility in the face of the many challenges I will encounter as I being to write.