A conversation with writer director Eleanor Gaver I met Eleanor Gaver in a writing workshop in L.A. and we kept in touch after she and her husband and daughter moved to NYC. I knew she had recently finished a film and knowing how hard it is to get financing I asked her how Here One Minute was able to go from script to screen. Eleanor: I got so tired of writing scripts and waiting years to get the money to make the film; I was so tired of hearing, ‘No.’ I decided to make a … Continue reading “A Great Time For Young Filmmakers” Eleanor Gaver, writer director→
by Laura Marello Three years ago I phoned Specialty Exterminators in Lynchburg. My side yard, viewed from my screened porch, was starting to look like a cheap horror movie: rats, mice, and baby mice, running from my yard into the neighbors’ yard and back. Specialty Exterminators sent the rat baiter: an appropriately slim, tanned, wrinkled, grizzled–but in a handsome sort of way–sixty-something in a uniform much like a gas station attendant or a tow truck driver, park ranger, or sheriff would wear. As it turned out, I needed all five, and more. The Rat Baiter … Continue reading The Rat Baiter and Me→
By Laura Marello Imagine that, 20 years ago, my father and I were visiting my sister in her apartment. It was a warm, sunny day. My sister was making us ice tea. I was sitting in the living room with my father. He was complaining about his wife and her children. He said: Sometimes I want to take the gun out of the drawer and shoot the whole lot of them. I thought, The gun, out of the drawer? Not a gun out of a drawer? Articles matter. For another example, let us consider … Continue reading Articles Matter→
By Laura Marello I’d never owned a house before, and when I finally bought one in Lynchburg, I found that I enjoyed decorating it. The rooms would take on a life of their own, sometimes a history of their own as I began to decorate them. The dining room was painted a pale gold and cream, and when I unpacked a Louis chair for the living room that had matching gold striped upholstery and ebony stained wood, suddenly the room took on a personality, but one I didn’t like. Some old, fusty person had taken … Continue reading What Happens When an Explorer from the 1750s Manifests Himself While You Are Decorating Your Upstairs Sitting Room→
By Michael Lachance I have been thinking more and more about art in my life and the special appeal photography has for me, especially black and white images. We are assaulted daily with media and the volume can obscure the potential beauty of a simple, isolated image. Some photographs succeed as record of a special moment in time. My looking at photography is a good means to gain a bit of mindfulness in an otherwise jumbled calendar. I like to quickly look at collections of photographs and bookmark those which arrest my attention. I then … Continue reading Kitten Follows Mother→
“The journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step.” ~ Lao Tzu My father gave me a brand new digital camera for Christmas in 2005 and it sat on a shelf for a year and a half. “How are you liking that little camera I gave you?” he asked me one day. “Well, I haven’t really opened it up yet,” I had to confess. “Well, get it out and fire it up!” he chimed. I wanted to take pictures, but part of me didn’t want to have to open it. That would … Continue reading The Creative Path: From Couch Potato to Camera Buff→
Sometimes we need to write about writing. Sometimes we need to list all the reasons we love to write, or why we hate to write or what we want to write about. I write because I want to find out what I think, how I feel, why I believe and who I am underneath the makeup and the clothing and the skin. I write because writing is the best revenge and the best way to avoid goodbye. I write because it’s a vehicle for feelings that didn’t want to take the train. I write because … Continue reading Writing a Bridge→
Prompts are everywhere all around you, all the time. If you have recently been startled awake from a dream, taken a bite out of an apple, crossed a busy intersection or lived another day, you have new material to draw from. If you want to draw from the past rather than the present, firsts are fertile ground. First apartment, first kiss, first time leaving your hometown or state, first motorcycle ride, first funeral, first drink, first friend, first breakup, first boy-girl party, first prayer, first revelation. And lasts. The last lie you told, the last … Continue reading “Halfway House For Writers”→
It’s a highly discriminatory practice, but on this small tump of an island in the middle of the Chesapeake Bay, dark-haired boys are the ones rewarded as harbingers of good luck for the coming year. If such a child crosses your Tangier Island threshold on New Year’s Day he’s due a dollar for the blessing he’s provided you. Other children tag along and receive spare change for their efforts, but the tradition of New Year’s Giving clearly benefits the raven-haired the most. What is it about the doorway that inspires such superstition? Brides must … Continue reading Dark-Haired Strangers at the Threshold→
Last week it rained for three days. Outside my window the light pearled gray and rain drumming on the roof inspired me to ignore my to-do-list and wander among my bookshelves. My books have a way of wandering themselves as writers come and go and will sometimes carry a book to another room. Often when the writer returns the book, she will forget which room, which shelf. So as the December gusts of rain blew across the river pastures, I decided to stroll among my book shelves. I did not care to re-shelve, organize or … Continue reading Rainy Day Odyessy→
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