Okay, everyone, I wasn't fishing when I posted on Monday. Well. MAYBE A LITTLE. But I did appreciate your comments about the "Special to the Trib" piece. That particular column pushed a lot of people's hostility buttons--I think I understand why, although frankly I'm still a little surprised--so your kind words buoyed me up yesterday. Which brings me to today's subject.
I'll confess. I did feel a little rattled by some of the feedback I received--it's never fun to be called lame, self-serving, self-indulgent, unfunny and incompetent, although if readers had attacked my cooking I would have REALLY been hurt. I guess what bothers me the most is that I let it . . . bother me. The bad part about letting stuff like that get under your skin is that it makes it so hard to write the next column or story or novel.
So. I want to open this up. How do you handle the unkind remark? Looking forward to your responses.
Showing posts with label gratitude for friends. Show all posts
Showing posts with label gratitude for friends. Show all posts
Wednesday, January 26, 2011
Monday, August 3, 2009
Thanks!
When I started blogging I figured no one would stop by to read because seriously. Who wants to read about what another person eats? But here you are! And you're always so nice! Which is why I just want to say thank you for visiting.
Now step outside and look at the moon. It couldn't be more beautiful.
Now step outside and look at the moon. It couldn't be more beautiful.
Saturday, July 25, 2009
Hello again
I don't know why I didn't blog at all this week. Apparently I lost my will to blog. Also live. Also eat cupcakes. It was a bad week in some ways, but I'm better now.
I was listening to (cliche alert!) NPR this morning on my way to (cliche alert!) the Farmer's Market this morning to watch fellow Salt Lakers (cliche alert!) sip coffee and parade their rescue dogs around Pioneer Park. ANYWAY. I was interested in the interview with a writer whose name I missed (but his British-type accent was dead sexy) who called the reading and writing of poetry a Slow Word Movement--not unlike the Slow Food Movement. His point, of course, was that to read poems, you have to slow down and savor what's there in order to have a meaningful experience.
I loved this little analogy and wanted to say one of the pleasures of this otherwise disappointing week was to read some poems by my friend Lisa Bickmore, who often posts here. She's all about the Slow Word Movement, and I feel nourished because she shared her work with me. She used to be my second favorite poet after W. B. Yeats. But now she is officially my favorite poet.
And actually now that I think about it--I saw and heard from several friends this past week and that was all good, too. Thank you, friends.
Yes. In my happy place now.
I was listening to (cliche alert!) NPR this morning on my way to (cliche alert!) the Farmer's Market this morning to watch fellow Salt Lakers (cliche alert!) sip coffee and parade their rescue dogs around Pioneer Park. ANYWAY. I was interested in the interview with a writer whose name I missed (but his British-type accent was dead sexy) who called the reading and writing of poetry a Slow Word Movement--not unlike the Slow Food Movement. His point, of course, was that to read poems, you have to slow down and savor what's there in order to have a meaningful experience.
I loved this little analogy and wanted to say one of the pleasures of this otherwise disappointing week was to read some poems by my friend Lisa Bickmore, who often posts here. She's all about the Slow Word Movement, and I feel nourished because she shared her work with me. She used to be my second favorite poet after W. B. Yeats. But now she is officially my favorite poet.
And actually now that I think about it--I saw and heard from several friends this past week and that was all good, too. Thank you, friends.
Yes. In my happy place now.
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