I just wanted to say that I love your writing. It is so descriptive and imaginative. We grew up in different eras, but I, too, grew up in Ridgewood/Bushwick during the 60s/70s. I went to work in Manhattan in the era in which you describe, where everything was broken and ugly in NYC. It's been years since I've lived in NY, but it is a huge part of my life and I'll never lose those memories. We all have trauma to process. I have trauma that came after my time in Ridgewood, and I am trying to figure out the ways I can express myself about that. Again, great essay. Looking forward to more.
Beautiful writing. I love your imagery and the little details, like the ‘squirming worms’ in the dirt and the ‘twisted fork tines.’ Lovely. I relate to the trauma, especially around mothers (myself being a son). It’s always hard to tell the truth on the page, especially about family. I also write autobiographical fiction. Right now I’ve been posting my ‘fictional memoir’ on Substack about my time in East Harlem during Covid. I try to be as authentic as possible. It’s tricky. Also: I didn’t know about the fires in nyc during that period; fascinating. (And terrible.) Anyway--I’m enjoying your writing.
This resonated. Every word. Thank you for sharing it.
Thank you so much for reading & responding.
I just wanted to say that I love your writing. It is so descriptive and imaginative. We grew up in different eras, but I, too, grew up in Ridgewood/Bushwick during the 60s/70s. I went to work in Manhattan in the era in which you describe, where everything was broken and ugly in NYC. It's been years since I've lived in NY, but it is a huge part of my life and I'll never lose those memories. We all have trauma to process. I have trauma that came after my time in Ridgewood, and I am trying to figure out the ways I can express myself about that. Again, great essay. Looking forward to more.
Beautiful writing. I love your imagery and the little details, like the ‘squirming worms’ in the dirt and the ‘twisted fork tines.’ Lovely. I relate to the trauma, especially around mothers (myself being a son). It’s always hard to tell the truth on the page, especially about family. I also write autobiographical fiction. Right now I’ve been posting my ‘fictional memoir’ on Substack about my time in East Harlem during Covid. I try to be as authentic as possible. It’s tricky. Also: I didn’t know about the fires in nyc during that period; fascinating. (And terrible.) Anyway--I’m enjoying your writing.
Michael Mohr
Sincere American Writing
https://michaelmohr.substack.com/
Thank you for reading & your thoughtful. I wish you love and healing on your journey.
Thank you for reading & for leaving such a thoughtful comment.