“Over Everything” (Short Fiction)

My most recent piece, “Over Everything,” is up at Corporeal Writing. Read the full essay here.

Coming on Monday: If you’re a writer and you’ve been looking for feedback and community, join me online for “Transformative Storytelling” at Viva Institute. Class begins July 17.

“I’d studied with Leigh before and found her as kind and compassionate as she is industrious, witty, and gifted at bringing out the best in everyone around her. Interesting, thoughtfully-planned lessons led to assignments that hardly felt like work at all. As I participated, it was fascinating to discover not only that my story had a way of telling itself and I was just its ‘keeper,’ but that my voice seemed to simply be awaiting my call for it to venture out. I was truly surprised at just how uplifted and inspired I felt receiving the positive, helpful comments and feedback – and respond with a very heartfelt thank you.” – Kelly, Minnesota


Excerpt: “Over Everything”

She rolls over. Summery skin soft and dark against the curved line of shirt sliding beneath sheets. Before morning pulls me under lushdelicious, I push my mouth against her shoulder, wrap an arm and drape a leg.

“Morning,” she mumbles. Her skin shimmers warm in the morning light.

“You glow,” I sigh, and go under.

When I open my eyes who knows how long later, the dog has weaseled his way onto the bed, curled between us. At the low rumble of thunder, he gives a convulsive quiver and tucks his nose beneath his back leg. I scratch his ears and Kabob untucks and gives me a grateful look. Before he tucks back in, I notice a bright smudge, glowing on the bridge of his nose. I rub my eyes and lean forward, spreading the thin fur on his snout with my fingers, like I’m looking for ticks. Where the fur separates, the glow follows. [Read more]


 

Publications

Test Tank, Corporeal Writing.

You say, write something hopeful, Corporeal Writing.

Make a Little Birdhouse in Your Soul, Corporeal Writing.

You Can Do Anything, Corporeal Writing.

The Right to Bare Arms, ENTROPY Magazine.

Still Gonna Do (#ShePersisted), The Manifest-Station.

Upcoming Classes

Online Writing Workshop: The Illuminated Narrator – begins July 17

Postage

LeighHereNow

PO Box 27771

Philadelphia, PA

19118, USA

 

Subscribe

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What’s On My Nightstand: June 2017

Adult Fiction

Love Medicine, by Louise Erdrich

The Girl on the Train, by Paula Hawkins

Midnight’s Children, by Salman Rushdie

 

Non-fiction

Greek Phrasebook & Dictionary, by Lonely Planet

The Law of One, Book III, by Carla Rueckert, Don Elkins, and James McCarty

Lost Goddesses of Early Greece: A Collection of Pre-Hellenic Myths, by Charlene Spretnak

 

Short Story

A Love Story, by Samantha Hunt

The Size of Things, by Samanta Schweblin

 

Essay

The Work You Do, The Person You Are, by Toni Morrison

Listening for the Country, by 

 

Poetry

Poems, by Robert Lax

The Light, The Shade, by Robert Lax

An Old Story, by Tracy K. Smith

 

Magazine

The New Yorker

 

Lip balm

HURRAW! sunbalm, SPF 20

 

Computer Glasses

Pixel Eyewear

 

About

Publications

Postage

Teaching

“Test Tank” (New Short Fiction)

My most recent short fiction piece, “Test Tank” is up at Corporeal Writing. Read an excerpt below, or read the full essay here. 

Coming in July: If you’re a writer of any kind and you’re looking for community and feedback on your writing, join the newest section of my online writing workshop at Viva Institute. Class begins July 17.

 


 Excerpt: “Test Tank”

 

1.

“I missed my deadline.” It’s the first thought.

 

“Hey.” The sound is thick. “Welcome back.”

 

Drifting.

 

“How are you feeling?”

 

I missed my deadline. Again.

 

“Can you tell me your name?”

 

Ocean glass. Blue-green.

 

“I know it’s difficult, but can you wiggle the finger on your left hand?”

 

Certainly.

 

“Great,” you say. “You’re doing really great.” Warm and soft, the way I love. “Now can you tell me how you feel?”

 

“Like the ocean,” I murmur. “Without the waves.” I stretch my left arm and flex the fingers, swirling. I stretch the right, but it’s all wrong. Stretch left, stretch right – nothing. “Something’s wrong.”

 

The scrape of a chair. “Naia, listen. There’s not much time before we need to send you back, so I’m going to explain quickly, OK?”

 

“Back?”

 

“There’s been an accident.” You clear your throat and start again. “You were in an accident, but you’re going to be OK.”

 

“Back where?” I reach again, but everything is ocean. “Why can’t I see?”

 

“It’s part of the process. Just one of the stages of regeneration.”

 

I wince. From somewhere deep.

 

Thirty seconds, says a voice. [Read “Test Tank” here.]

 

Publications

You say, write something hopeful, Corporeal Writing.

Make a Little Birdhouse in Your Soul, Corporeal Writing.

You Can Do Anything, Corporeal Writing.

The Right to Bare Arms, ENTROPY Magazine.

Still Gonna Do (#ShePersisted), The Manifest-Station.

Upcoming Classes

Online Writing Workshop: The Illuminated Narrator – begins July 17

Subscribe

To receive blog updates, subscribe to LeighHereNow.

Postage

LeighHereNow

PO Box 27771

Philadelphia, PA

19118, USA

You say, write something hopeful

My most recent essay, “You say, write something hopeful,” was published yesterday at Corporeal Writing. For the month of June, I have the incredible fortune of living on one of the Dodecanese islands in Greece, and I’ve included some of my personal shots of the places mentioned in the piece below.

Read the full essay here.

 


 Excerpt: “You say, write something hopeful”

Something that makes people feel as hopeful and beautiful as this moment is, and even though that seems like an impossible thing to do, although it actually seems like the very worst thing to do, I say OK, I’ll try, because at this moment the sun has just done a kind of magic trick on the water, everything shimmering layers of gold and blue, and then I wonder how many times people have used the word shimmering to describe sunlight on water, and I stop.

Later, I say. I make a mental note that once we have walked back along the pebbled road, away from the darkening cliffs and spiked green shrubs, past the farmer who herds the goats to their night pasture, bronze bells clanging around their necks as they shuffle and call, once we have stacked the dishes and shuttered the windows and poured two glasses of water for bed, I will make a list of hopeful things, just to remind myself.

But as I stack the dishes, I am thinking of this morning’s hike to a remote beach on the north side of the island, how when a cheerful woman called “kalimera!” followed by “good morning!” (just in case I didn’t know) I slowed my gait and responded in kind, and then, because we are both travelers, I asked the question travelers ask: “Where are you from?” and she smiled “Australia,” and I nodded and smiled, and she asked, “You?” and I answered “The United States,” and I dropped my head. [read more]

Publications

Make a Little Birdhouse in Your Soul, Corporeal Writing.

You Can Do Anything, Corporeal Writing.

The Right to Bare Arms, ENTROPY Magazine.

Still Gonna Do (#ShePersisted), The Manifest-Station.

Upcoming Classes

Online Writing Workshop: The Illuminated Narrator – begins July 17

Subscribe

To receive blog updates, subscribe to LeighHereNow.

Postage

LeighHereNow

PO Box 27771

Philadelphia, PA

19118, USA

 

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What’s On My Nightstand: May 2017

Stone

“Un arco iris te pinto la piel para amanecer contigo. ¡Amor para siempre!” – de K&M

(Translation: I paint a rainbow on your skin to dawn with you. Love forever!)
 

Adult Fiction

The Book of Joan, by Lidia Yuknavitch

 

Non-fiction

Greek Phrasebook & Dictionary, by Lonely Planet

Tiny Beautiful Things: Advice on love and life from Dear Sugar, by Cheryl Strayed

Short Story

Fly Already, by Etgar Keret

Girl, by Jamaica Kincaid

The Shawl, by Cynthia Ozick

Poetry

The Dream of a Common Language, by Adrienne Rich

If Not, Winter – Fragments of Sappho, translated by Anne Carson

Children’s Picture Book

Vuoi essere mio amico? by Eric Carle (when in Rome, Italian version of Do you want to be my friend?)

Flyer

Robert Lax, Lax Archives, St. Bonaventure University

Magazine

The New Yorker

The New York Times Magazine

The Week

Newspaper

The New York Times

 

Lip balm

HURRAW! unscented lip balm

 

About

Publications

Postage

Teaching

Make a little birdhouse in your soul

My newest essay, “Make a Little Birdhouse in Your Soul” was published today in my monthly column, Secret Circus. Last month, I was invited to create a featured column on Corporeal Writing, the online writing workshop run by bestselling-author Lidia Yuknavitch. Lidia’s newest release, The Book of Joan, was recently featured on the cover of the New York Times Book Review and it’s getting rave reviews. (Read it – it’s worth the hype!) This is my second piece for Secret Circus.

The starlings are back. For each of the past three years, they have returned to gather a chaotic pile of damp grass, peeled bark, and matted bits of twine, threads still unraveling even as they are tucked away. One day a silky puff of cream-colored fur appears, the next, a waxy red leaf. I marvel at their ability to make do with such a seemingly uninhabitable place, an old crook of drainpipe beneath the roof of my apartment building, but this is what starlings do. I watch them, thinking of home.

Twenty-nine places in twenty-seven years. Never allowing myself to need anywhere or anything or anyone long enough to stay.

I think this is not true.

(Maybe it is partly true.)

Starlings are “egg droppers.” When they’re feeling competitive, they swoop into unattended nests and steal eggs, dropping them from great heights. Glossy and pale blue… [read more]

Publications

You Can Do Anything, Corporeal Writing.

The Right to Bare Arms, ENTROPY Magazine.

Still Gonna Do (#ShePersisted), The Manifest-Station.

Subscribe

To receive blog updates, subscribe to LeighHereNow.

Postage

LeighHereNow
PO Box 27771
Philadelphia, PA
19118, USA

Postage from Meghan

 

A koan is a riddle or puzzle that Zen Buddhists use during meditation to help them unravel greater truths about the world and about themselves. The effort to “solve” a koan is intended to exhaust the analytic intellect and the egoistic will, readying the mind to entertain an appropriate response on the intuitive level.”

(Source: Encyclopedia Brittanica)

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