So I started to write about a hair dryer, my first, that I received as a Christmas gift when I was 13 or 14. It was a shade deeper than robin’s egg blue and came with a little comb attachment. It’s a toss-up to this day whether I was inept or the hair dryer was poorly designed, but you’ll notice that not many stylists use blow dryers, as they came to be known, in conjunction with combs.
Why did I pull the plug? And why didn’t I write about what it was like to return to the neighborhood where I grew up and walk down the center of a street that has now been turned into a trail? The short answer is that I think I need these memories for the book I’ll begin to write in less than eight weeks. The hair dryer, the neighborhood, the #15 bus, Security Square Mall, the smell of Karmelkorn, certain movies, the novelty of health food stores when I was a teenager, a particular Henley shirt (I wouldn’t have known the term at the time) with a red placket that bled on first washing, despite following the care instructions. I’m not saying I’m going to write about those specific things (although the hair dryer seems key). But, for now, I’m suddenly feeling secretive about my memories, for I’m very furtive when I’m writing, all but hunched over and guarding “my precioussssssssssss.”
So I’m mulling. I may try to write about things from a different era — cartoons, Lois Lane, Millie the Model. (Chili was the redhead, right, but who was the brunette? Toni?) I may take this blog in a different direction. I may just let it sleep for a while. The thing is, I love what others write here and would have to lose those memories.
Nothing particularly important to say , except the Betty Broderick story – was on lifetime, both episodes, and I thought of you – in a good way! I noticed that they have both of them on NETFLIX, and you know you could always order it, and they might accidently get lost in the mail, and then you would report them missing, and they would send you new ones, that you would watch and return … and well, no one has to know what happened to the first set.
Not that I’m advocating theft or anything, and please don’t assume that I have actually done this
Oh Laura, as much as I would hate to lose this connection to what I have come to think of as “a jury of my peers”, you deserve to take this project any way, anywhere you want it to go. Getting the “LauraLippman just posted a journal entry” email has always been for me like a getting an unexpected gift in the middle of the day. I think you have challenged me to conjure up some wonderful images, some blessed banalities from my own life, and I have revelled in the writing of those who have done the same. I thank all of you from the bottom of my heart for that.
But Laura, if you need to let the virtual ground of this site go fallow for awhile so you can tend to another part of your field – have at it, sister. It’s like something I once read about poetry, I think it might have been from Natalie Goldberg – it will always be there for you, even if you go away from it for a long time. I don’t want to speak for others, but I bet most folks on this blog would be there for you if you walk away from this, and also if you choose to resume sharing your thoughts with us, in whatever format you choose, after your quiet time.
With love,
Rosemary Connors
PS – I never thanked for you for the bookstore recommendations in Baltimore- they were fab! Thanks!
“Getting the “LauraLippman just posted a journal entry” email has always been for me like a getting an unexpected gift in the middle of the day.”
What Rosemary said.
But you’ve got to do what you need to do to get the work done. If that means not blogging, then so be it. The books ocme first.
We will all miss your comments and insights. I look forward to all your books. My life will be just that little bit less full without your occasional visit and my wish is that you return following your revere. See ‘ya.
>>Life’s creative solutions require alone time. Solitude is required for the unconscious to process and unravel problems. Others inspire us, information feeds us, practice improves our performance, but we need quiet time to figure things out, to emerge with new discoveries, to unearth original answers.<<
From The Call of Solitude, by Ester Buchholz
What a nice way of likening your blog as a ‘gift. It is for me as well, plus the nostalgia elements were terrific and often brought a big smile to my face. And I ‘third’ the motion to do what you need to do. So, instead of saying good bye for a spell, how’s about just an Au revoir?
Your emails are certainly a gift. And we should not expect gifts but cherish them when they come. Do what you must. We’ll be hanging around waiting for more (books, blogs, whatever you write) so don’t worry your pretty little blow-dried head about it, Larry, er, Laura.
)
I agree with what Keith said, and I would be up for it, too. But I think I have gotten a new idea or two for almost every memory of mine I posted about.
All I can say, Laura, is thanks (for the memories?), and I look forward to seeing what you come up with for this new project of yours.
Laura: Since the demise of the Hardboiled board this has been one of my favorite hangouts.
As long as the ‘Open’ sign stays lit I’ll stop in for a beer, regardless of any changes in decor.
–john–
Wonderful feedback. As I said, I may simply cannibalize a different part of my life while I’m writing the next book. Or I might put this blog through some other permutations.
But I won’t let it go dark.
Keith said: What about some sort of taking-turns thing, so you can be a participant instead of an instigator? It would be a little more work for the rest of us, but I’d be up for it.<<<<
I tried this with my baseball-memories blog, and got some wonderful responses–including at least a couple from people who show up here too–but eventually I found that most people prefer to read carefully thought-out entries, rather than compose them. Many people saw a big difference between writing a comment and being the poster who spurs other people to comment. Some were simply too busy, while others suffered from stage fright. It didn’t end up working.
Course, this is mostly a different crowd…..
Laura, the Memory Project has done much to jog my own fading memories of coming of age in 1970′s “Balmore,” for which I am grateful to you. Nothing is constant except change. Whatever your decision, I’m sure the MP gang will still be around for the next act.
That’s actually why I haven’t participated in some of these posts; once a memory’s used, it’s used. I’m keeping some for books.
What about some sort of taking-turns thing, so you can be a participant instead of an instigator? It would be a little more work for the rest of us, but I’d be up for it.
I understand your rationale, but since I’m new to this “community”, I’ll be disappointed for sure. That comes from finally finding a point of conversation that I can really relate to. By the way, are you still going to do the “Tess Tour” ? My daughter, who introduced me to your books, wants me to come up for it.
I have so enjoyed this blog; it’s been free trips, not only back to Baltimore but to the Baltimore of my childhood (it’s hard getting a plane ticket to there). Thank you for thinking of it and for doing it as long as you did (and it is my loss that I didn’t discover it earlier).
Diane
Edwards, CO
Knowing Rosemary it woud be just as interesting…
I’m up for throwing a memory or two out there every once and awhile, and see if people respond to it. I mean, the riveting, life-changing stuff like the once a year appearance of “A Charlie Brown Christmas”? Being a Bobby Sherman vs. David Cassidy fan? The Martin Luther King portrait my mother hung in the rec room of my childhood home in the lily-white suburbs of Philadelphia? We all got ‘em.