RachelVB.com

Category: Writing Life

  • To console one must have suffered

    —

    by

    rachelvb
    in , ,

    “Do not believe that he who seeks to comfort you lives untouched among the simple and quiet words that sometimes do you good. His life has much difficulty and sadness. … Were it otherwise he would never have been able to find those words.” – Rainer Marie Rilke, “Letters to a Young Poet”

  • Racquet Ball for Dummies

    —

    by

    rachelvb
    in , ,

    Pat and I joined the gym that just opened up next door to our apartment. We have no excuse now. Pool, top notch equipment, machines, hot tub, racquet ball courts, personal trainers – all new and shiny, waiting for us to sweat all over them. We went for the first time last night and decided…

  • Poetry gods

    —

    by

    rachelvb
    in , ,

    I’ve been making these “snow Globes” the past couple of days and pat always asks why my crafty projects take so damn long because they do – I’m always straining my eyes toward the end of them, fingers burnt off from hot glue, sliced from scissors, numb. I dunno, I shrug covered in bits of…

  • Bull Horn

    —

    by

    rachelvb
    in , ,

    A few days ago, I walked past one of the many giant glass buildings with marble floors and revolving doors. Security guards looked out in amusement at the small group of protesters that had amassed – a taunting “You won’t ever get in here” hand on their hips. It’s a mining company, the corporate office,…

  • Chapter One

    —

    by

    rachelvb
    in , ,

    I have a section dropping tonight, but I don’t want to work on it. I don’t want to start. I don’t want to puzzle together recipes and cutlines and fix widows and worry about cramming all those words into such a small space. I don’t give a shit about dog legs today. I want to…

  • Words of widsom

    —

    by

    rachelvb
    in ,

    Person who wishes to remain anonymous: If you want to be a better writer you’re going to have to pull it out of you. It’s in there. You just have to pull it out. It’s in your guts. Maybe even in your poop. Me: I don’t want to dig around in my own poop. PWWTRA:…

  • The bottom of the sea

    —

    by

    rachelvb
    in , , ,

    This morning, I was in an old tan truck with my father, driving on the bottom of the ocean only all the water had receded so it looked more like a sea green ruin. The road was opals. The median dried up tide pools. He kept telling me to drive around the anemones so I…

  • Middle

    —

    by

    rachelvb
    in , ,

    I want to fall off the map. But anymore – is there a place unmapped? An unknown number called me yesterday and I plugged it into Facebook and there she was – my old landlord. She left a long 2 minute message of her breathing, clearly a butt dial, but why did she still have…

  • Possible Titles

    —

    by

    rachelvb
    in ,

    I feel like I’m wrapping my collection up. It’s about as good as I can get it right now given where I am as a writer (possibly terrible, possibly OK), but who the hell really knows what will happen with it. I don’t feel done – I feel like I have a long way to…

  • 7 bodies

    —

    by

    rachelvb
    in , ,

    This is my life now. My pale skin burning in the sun, taking the train, strangers asking to borrow my cell phone, me declining; sweat, body odor, lovers, cancer survivors, drunks and trying to ignore them enough so they won’t talk to me, so I can watch them all in peace. I shuffle between journal,…