Comments on: The One That Got Away.

By: Terreson

Terreson — Wed, 04 Nov 2009 00:30:38 +0000

No offense taken, KT. Besides, I am not nearly as scarey as that shadow that stays right behind me. Now he scares me. Anyway, writing that quickens the perceptions of a moment, as Amber Tamblyn’s little piece does, I call good writing. It might be the thing I look for the most in writing, all writing.

Terreson

By: CD

CD — Tue, 03 Nov 2009 22:50:02 +0000

LOVED your description of the barking thing that is now stationed in MY throat! Sort of glad I had been laid low … at least it offered the time for me to read your musings AND the suggested remedies … Think I will toddle off to find the whiskey … oh yes, will mix with hot water, lemon and honey … I believe my Uncle used to use this toddy as a remedy for multiple aches and pains … Feel better!

By: kt

kt — Tue, 03 Nov 2009 18:12:07 +0000

Glad to see that Terreson can be civil when he wants to be. No offense to you, Terreson, but I’m a little scared of some of your other comments.

Thanks for your post Amber, it’s exciting (as a young poet) to see another young poet writing about poetry & feelings of inadequacy without posturing, and with excitement and gratitude and (yes) with a throne-sitting critter ruling your throat and nasal cavity.

Be well! I hear whiskey, warm water, lemon and honey do the trick, if by trick we both understand that I mean “falling asleep.”

By: Jessie Carty

Jessie Carty — Mon, 02 Nov 2009 16:26:07 +0000

I really have to try living in New York at some point. Just to see these kinds of things Dayquil is like liquid gold. Hope you feel better!

By: Matthew Z

Matthew Z — Mon, 02 Nov 2009 15:55:12 +0000

don’t you mean portkey? or sorting hat?

By: Anselm

Anselm — Mon, 02 Nov 2009 00:09:08 +0000

I live around the corner and around one more from that sombrero in the puddle, which is clearly a portal.

By: Terreson

Terreson — Sun, 01 Nov 2009 23:35:41 +0000

(Be still oh my beating heart.) Thanks, Amber Tamblyn, for the immediate chuckle. And touche on you.

I do love writing when it quickens the moment, especially when it looks to quicken immediate environment. Your scene of Halloween detritus comes through.

About that Scotch, might I suggest an Irish instead. They don’t call it mother’s milk for nothing.

Terreson