Category: European Women Writers
My Big Fake Immigrant Memoir
Let’s face it, the American immigration story has been done to death. It’s the “been-there-wrote-that” tale. So would someone please tell why I’m sitting here writing a book-length memoir about leaving my native Ireland, at age 24, to come alone to live in America? While I’m penning my woman’s immigrant story, the very same story is being played [...]
Poetry, a reflex, a knee-jerk
I began writing very early on. As a child it was all I looked forward to in literacy classes. Evenings I’d spend in my fairylight-lit den, scribbling stories about imaginary places and characters that felt more real than any friends I had at school. It was only when I got to secondary school that I [...]
Let Me Tell You Why I Write …
“Let me tell you one thing about why writers write: had I known the answer to any of these questions I would never have needed to write a novel.” Joan Didion I understand what Joan Didion means – you wouldn’t write a novel, would you, if you could possibly avoid it? Because as all mere [...]
Thanksgiving’s a Holiday Over Here
The American man’s voice sounded woken-up and irritated. “It’s Thanksgiving,” he said down that payphone. “So my roommates are off work and gone home. Like, Thanksgiving’s a holiday over here.” Oh, come on, I wanted to say. I mean, with nobody getting born or killed or risen from the dead, just how big could this ‘holiday’ of yours really [...]
Viviana Mazza: Interview with an Italian Journalist
We met Italian Journalist Viviana Mazza on Twitter, when researching the difficult story of Fakhra Younas, a Pakistani woman who was attacked with acid, and taken in by Italy where she underwent countless surgeries until she ended her life March 17, 2012. Viviana helped us connect with Elena Doni, the author of Fakhra’s memoir, a best [...]
Elephants Dancing in My Tummy: And The Angels Cried
I have a herd of elephants dancing in my tummy; my head aches and I am intermittently overcome by a wave of panic which starts at my toes and oozes from my fingers as I type; I’m not sleeping too well either. I’m not ill or on drugs – unless you count the medicinal Pinot [...]
