Think of the last time that you read a book that enveloped you. Time stopped or turned to a dull roar, and even the armrest that you leaned against didn’t seem as real as the people you were reading about. Somewhere in the amazingly intricate pattern of your mind, you could see them as well as a familiar friend’s memory. You could feel their hurt, their wonder, like it was your own.
Think of the last movie that you saw that made you forget that you were sitting in a chair, not only removed but completely safe from any of the action that played out. For a time, you may have even forgotten yourself, following characters into their homes as easily and unnoticed as a sunbeam or a breeze.
There is a magic to storytelling, and part of that magic is its appearance of reality. Read the rest of this entry
This week, I had the chance to do one of my favorite things: bake cupcakes. The bookends of summer in my life are birthdays, and a friend asked my sister and I to make cupcakes for her day. We were more than happy to enlist for that duty. Cupcakes are serious business around here. Read the rest of this entry
A few weeks ago, my family and I spent a Friday evening with Tom Hanks in The Money Pit. My sister and I curled tighter and tighter into the crevices of the couches while my dad laughed until he just about cried. If you knew my dad, you’d know what a rare sighting this is during a movie. Finding me cringing is a less-rare occurrence, but I found long ago that a certain kind of comedy, the kind where nothing less than the entire house goes up in flames or every priceless vase is demolished, tortures a certain part of my soul. War-time destruction? Apocalpyse? Natural disaster? I can handle those movies. Comedy of errors? You can find me tied in a knot behind a cushion. Read the rest of this entry