Tag: The Bell Jar

Books

LITTLE SMILING HOOKS: For Plath Fanatics (not to be read with your head in the oven)

It’s cold outside. Another winter presses down on Pineapple Hill, my beach house in a cow pasture in rural South Carolina. The sky is pale ….

Bad things happened, an entire run of them that shut me down, caused me to withdraw from everything except my inner self.

One afternoon, in a hammock, I took a photo of myself. Just my legs. But there was no one to send it to. No one to understand.

I needed a sidekick so I sketched an armadillo because they’re crusty on the outside but not within. I made him my butler. Crusoe’s manservant Friday.

We began interacting—my hammock photo speaking to that critter, that critter speaking back.There’s a folder of cartoons somewhere. For now there’s just this one. (LINK)

Eventually after that I began writing novels.

I’m still a hermit, marooned you might say, but leaving my shell more and more—my inner self seeking its freedom through writing.