So sad. A colleague introduced me to "Bastard Out of Carolina" and I gobbled it down, then spent more than an hour discussing the book. Beautifully wrenching and heart-stabbingly honest about the hardships some need to overcome.
I pushed "Bastard" towards my book-devouring first born so hard that I'm not sure they ever read it, and it resides in their bookcase still, hoping they will take it up during one of their all-to-brief visits
Ta, Robyn. I'm so glad you got to talk with that brilliant writer and great woman! Deep condolences to everyone who ever loved her and/or her work. Her memory will always be a blessing, eternally. Now I have to read everything of hers I haven't.
Thanks, Robyn. Nice words about a woman who had a powerful way with words. Even the short examples you gave are moving. I’ll be sure to read more from her.
I have not read the book, but I watched the movie during the pandemic and it was a rough watch. It made me temporarily hate the guy who played the stepdad, though I found some of his other stuff after and he is an excellent actor.
Thank you for this. Beautifully written. "Bastard Out of Carolina" came around at a critical time for my own Carolina lesbian sister, for whom that book meant the world. A couple years before my sister took her own life many years later, I was able to let her know that I'd got to meet Allison, albeit briefly. A writer friend had been invited to stay at Allison's house by the Russian River, and had in turn invited me up for a weekend. Allison was there to turn over the keys to her house (she apparently did this often - provided space for other writers to write), and I was happy to have the opportunity to tell her about the impact her book had had - as I'm sure many others did. She did a lot of good for a whole lot of people, and left in her wake a whole lot of courage for others to adopt.
OT. Should I follow the advice of the Rolling Stones and paint it black?
The so-called high silver paint didn't cut it on a thing. So I went with black. Ah, but the small sink was supposed to go with the brushed metal I am to install. Art: Black and silver definitely pair. Plus, I think black will obscure shit better than silver. Obviously clear coat.
I am energized! Belligerent! Defiant! (So is Robbie.)
Now. What is my plan?
To love my life.
That’s my plan. To love my dogs. That’s my program. To love my cat. To love the soup I just made. To love my friends. To love the Conflab. To love my walks. To love my hovel. To love the stars at night. I have done enough for now. So there you have it. That’s the full syllabus, Baby!
So, whattya say, we start small, love ourselves a little bit, and then we can all get together and come with a plan to start shakin’ the Karens?
Thank you. I needed this. However, I already posted the following nasty message to The Universe. Mea culpa.
Bless me, St. Joan of Snark 🙏✨💫
It’s been several days since my last snarktorial comments. I’m not currently on speaking terms with The Universe. Gafuckyaself, Universe. You know what you did! I know that’s harsh, but my better angels have flown the coop. Replacement angels have been ordered but there’s a supply chain problem.
Love you. Mean it. Yes, against my better judgement, I still love you. Damnit.
Ah Robyn! Now I'm crying again. I will seek out Dorothy Allison's writings, come what pain.
So sad. A colleague introduced me to "Bastard Out of Carolina" and I gobbled it down, then spent more than an hour discussing the book. Beautifully wrenching and heart-stabbingly honest about the hardships some need to overcome.
That pull quote is a powerful indictment of the right. They cannot see or experience beauty because they live small, grasping, ugly lives.
I pushed "Bastard" towards my book-devouring first born so hard that I'm not sure they ever read it, and it resides in their bookcase still, hoping they will take it up during one of their all-to-brief visits
Ta, Robyn. I'm so glad you got to talk with that brilliant writer and great woman! Deep condolences to everyone who ever loved her and/or her work. Her memory will always be a blessing, eternally. Now I have to read everything of hers I haven't.
Thanks, Robyn. Nice words about a woman who had a powerful way with words. Even the short examples you gave are moving. I’ll be sure to read more from her.
Oh, her essay on the power of gravy and a mother's love, Panacea. I am not a gravy person, and my beloved is, and I think of her every time I made some, every time I stir flour into fat, cut it with something tasty ... gift link: https://www.nytimes.com/2007/10/28/magazine/28Food-t.html?unlocked_article_code=1.SU4.tdWz.PrVzOGO_TsAP&smid=url-share
Ta, Charlotte, that was beautiful, and I quit NYT long ago. This was worth the click.
damn.
Bastard out of Carolina is excellent, this tribute thread inspired me, I'm reading "Skin" right now
A fine tribute to an excellent artist, thanks.
I have not read the book, but I watched the movie during the pandemic and it was a rough watch. It made me temporarily hate the guy who played the stepdad, though I found some of his other stuff after and he is an excellent actor.
𝘉𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘥 𝘖𝘶𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘊𝘢𝘳𝘰𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘢 was a book that any serious American creative writer in the early 1990s had to take note of.
Thank you for this. Beautifully written. "Bastard Out of Carolina" came around at a critical time for my own Carolina lesbian sister, for whom that book meant the world. A couple years before my sister took her own life many years later, I was able to let her know that I'd got to meet Allison, albeit briefly. A writer friend had been invited to stay at Allison's house by the Russian River, and had in turn invited me up for a weekend. Allison was there to turn over the keys to her house (she apparently did this often - provided space for other writers to write), and I was happy to have the opportunity to tell her about the impact her book had had - as I'm sure many others did. She did a lot of good for a whole lot of people, and left in her wake a whole lot of courage for others to adopt.
Getting strong winds here in the People’s Republic of Massachusetts.
Lots of dark clouds but no rain. No mention on my weather app.
Do most weather apps get it wrong a lot?
Yes.
RIP to a badass writer and thinker.
I kinda hope she was out of it with palliative drugs and didn't learn that the country elected Trump.
OT. Should I follow the advice of the Rolling Stones and paint it black?
The so-called high silver paint didn't cut it on a thing. So I went with black. Ah, but the small sink was supposed to go with the brushed metal I am to install. Art: Black and silver definitely pair. Plus, I think black will obscure shit better than silver. Obviously clear coat.
Mick Jagger, take me home:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=O4irXQhgMqg
Oakland, oops LA, oops Las Vegas Raiders on line 1
Marcus Allen isn’t walking through that door
From E Jean Carroll
I am energized! Belligerent! Defiant! (So is Robbie.)
Now. What is my plan?
To love my life.
That’s my plan. To love my dogs. That’s my program. To love my cat. To love the soup I just made. To love my friends. To love the Conflab. To love my walks. To love my hovel. To love the stars at night. I have done enough for now. So there you have it. That’s the full syllabus, Baby!
So, whattya say, we start small, love ourselves a little bit, and then we can all get together and come with a plan to start shakin’ the Karens?
https://ejeancarroll.substack.com/p/my-radical-plan?utm_source=post-email-title&publication_id=324097&post_id=151289081&utm_campaign=email-post-title&isFreemail=true&r=2lf992&triedRedirect=true&utm_medium=email
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Love this comment on her substack
Thank you. I needed this. However, I already posted the following nasty message to The Universe. Mea culpa.
Bless me, St. Joan of Snark 🙏✨💫
It’s been several days since my last snarktorial comments. I’m not currently on speaking terms with The Universe. Gafuckyaself, Universe. You know what you did! I know that’s harsh, but my better angels have flown the coop. Replacement angels have been ordered but there’s a supply chain problem.
Love you. Mean it. Yes, against my better judgement, I still love you. Damnit.
Yours always,
ME, Mother Emerita