Words on Writing, Part Four
Writing is like driving at night in the fog. You can only see as far as your headlights, but you can make the whole trip that way. — E.L....
Mark Pomeroy
- Feb 17
Harrison
Jim Harrison’s poems often pierce me. He wrote with a clarity and bravery that cut to the Shimmering Center. Whenever I bring some of his...
Mark Pomeroy
- Oct 27, 2021
Way Stations
Once a month I meet two friends for dinner. We pick a different place each time. I’ll call these guys Theo and Mac. This past Sunday,...
Mark Pomeroy
- Apr 15, 2021
The Best in Us
My son broke his wrist. We were skiing on Mount Hood, not far from Timberline Lodge. It was sunny and still cold just after lunch. I’d...
Mark Pomeroy
- Jan 10, 2021
We Keep Working
When delusions and lies spread across the land, we remain true to evidence. We vote on our ballots, and we vote through the daily doings...
Mark Pomeroy
- Aug 28, 2020
Flow
How we spend our days is, of course, how we spend our lives. - Annie Dillard We set out up the dry canyon, eyeing the mountain. A clear...
Mark Pomeroy
- Jun 7, 2020
He Has a Name, He Has a Story
He’s a senior in high school, he’s black, and he works at Chipotle four evenings a week. He chops lettuce and tomatoes, grills steak. He...
Mark Pomeroy
- Mar 22, 2020
Faith
This morning, as the dog and I walked after breakfast, the neighborhood streets were again quiet. Magnolia flowers ready to open. The...
Mark Pomeroy
- Jan 30, 2020
Now
Here in Portland, Oregon, in January, the days are short, grey, and wet. More rain this year than last, my goodness. Rain almost every...
Mark Pomeroy
- Oct 3, 2019
A Benediction of Goat Bells
Just finished writing a novel, after several years of work on it. Stacks of drafts surround this desk, the house is quiet, and after a...
Mark Pomeroy
- Jul 10, 2019
Words on Writing, Part Three
I would advise anyone who aspires to a writing career that before developing his talent he would be wise to develop a thick hide. —...
Mark Pomeroy
- Jun 9, 2019
Travelers
Summer in sight. Tomatoes on their way. Time to slow down some, and here this afternoon, time to think about a few places on this planet...
Mark Pomeroy
- Apr 19, 2019
Letter to My Son
Yesterday morning your mom and I walked with you beside the Metolius River. We’ve taken you there since you were little and riding on my...
Mark Pomeroy
- Feb 15, 2019
A Bear Story
Last night at dinner my son asked me, “When were you most scared?” “You mean, today?” “In your whole life.” We were eating pasta and...
Mark Pomeroy
- Dec 11, 2018
Words on Writing, Part Two
Computers are useless — all they can give you are answers. — Picasso When I had no roof I made/Audacity my roof. — Robert Pinsky What his...
Mark Pomeroy
- Oct 18, 2018
Heliotrope
A neighbor from down the street walks his dog, too. Now and then we see each other and keep the strutting beasts apart, but we raise a...
Mark Pomeroy
- Aug 30, 2018
The Woman on the Sidewalk
The dog and I step outside for our morning walk. We go down the front steps, turn into the driveway, and there on the sidewalk is a...
Mark Pomeroy
- Jul 25, 2018
Words on Writing, Part One
For about twenty-five years I’ve collected words on writing. From books, articles, overheard remarks at readings. These words aren’t...
Mark Pomeroy
- May 17, 2018
Two Poems
My Grown-up Granddaughter Asks The Ganges at dusk? Machu Picchu at dawn? Dear, I am happiest listening to Grandma sing off-key in the...
Mark Pomeroy
- Apr 17, 2018
Mr. Haruf
At the first Wordstock Book Festival in 2005, I was Kent Haruf’s chauffeur. As a writer in the schools, I’d heard that the festival...