Hannah Sward's Blog - Posts Tagged "death"
Melissa Broder's Reading at Chevalier's
On Wednesday night I went to Melissa Broder's reading of Death Valley. Before sitting down, I looked for my own book on the shelves. I was told it sold out.
Again? Did they not order it or is it really sold out?
"More should be coming in next week. Come back then so you can sign them."
That's what they said two weeks ago.
Melissa's book. I'm here for Melissa's book.
Who doesn't know Melissa's work?
Milk Fed
The Pisces
So Sad Today
and her latest, Death Valley
Seated in the second row I watched her as she took her seat at the front. Worn white tee-shirt, black mini-skirt, black ankle boots, no makeup, tan, tan legs. A runner. She looks like a runner. Slender. Very slender.
The first time I met Melissa was at AWP in Los Angeles. I was with my father. The best part of the conference was meeting Melissa.
Is this what I feel like writing about.? No. It's already 3:25pm. It's Sunday. I wrote earlier this morning, worked on promoting my own book (a year in since pub date), and for whatever reason decided to write a few words here. I've never written a blog. Is that what this is? No one will read it. Doesn't really matter what I write. That's good. I mean the doesn't matter part. The truth is I don't feel like writing. I don't feel like doing anything today. My step father is in the hospital, my half sister's dad died last week (she had flown in days before the attack in Israel - where she lives- to be with her father, bringing her four boys and husband with her) -
"Up until the end, he was my father protecting me," she said.
And five days ago I returned from scattering my own father's ashes up north in the Sierra Mountains.
"I want my ashes scattered at the Ranch," my father said before he died. "But I don't want you to hire someone to bring them there."
Four times he said that.
Hire someone?
"Dad, I'm not going to hire someone."
Where did he get that idea from?
Oh right, a hike. Did I say that earlier. It being after 3pm and okay, that's enough. I am pushing myself to go to Runyon Canyon. Will anyone read this? No. At least I put some words down. Why does that matter, putting words down? More later.
Again? Did they not order it or is it really sold out?
"More should be coming in next week. Come back then so you can sign them."
That's what they said two weeks ago.
Melissa's book. I'm here for Melissa's book.
Who doesn't know Melissa's work?
Milk Fed
The Pisces
So Sad Today
and her latest, Death Valley
Seated in the second row I watched her as she took her seat at the front. Worn white tee-shirt, black mini-skirt, black ankle boots, no makeup, tan, tan legs. A runner. She looks like a runner. Slender. Very slender.
The first time I met Melissa was at AWP in Los Angeles. I was with my father. The best part of the conference was meeting Melissa.
Is this what I feel like writing about.? No. It's already 3:25pm. It's Sunday. I wrote earlier this morning, worked on promoting my own book (a year in since pub date), and for whatever reason decided to write a few words here. I've never written a blog. Is that what this is? No one will read it. Doesn't really matter what I write. That's good. I mean the doesn't matter part. The truth is I don't feel like writing. I don't feel like doing anything today. My step father is in the hospital, my half sister's dad died last week (she had flown in days before the attack in Israel - where she lives- to be with her father, bringing her four boys and husband with her) -
"Up until the end, he was my father protecting me," she said.
And five days ago I returned from scattering my own father's ashes up north in the Sierra Mountains.
"I want my ashes scattered at the Ranch," my father said before he died. "But I don't want you to hire someone to bring them there."
Four times he said that.
Hire someone?
"Dad, I'm not going to hire someone."
Where did he get that idea from?
Oh right, a hike. Did I say that earlier. It being after 3pm and okay, that's enough. I am pushing myself to go to Runyon Canyon. Will anyone read this? No. At least I put some words down. Why does that matter, putting words down? More later.
