WOULD EVERYBODY PLEASE STOP?
Poetry for Modern Mindfulness
New Web series! ‘All Downhill From Here’
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Created by Lynne & Brooke Adams
November 17-19 2017
Miami Book Fair in Miami, Florida
October 19 2017
Bolli, Brandeis University in Waltham, MA
October 12 2017
Mark Twain House in Hartford, CT
October 2 2017
The City Theater in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania
September 30 2017
Annie’s Book Stop in Worcester, MA,
August 14 2017
Islanders Write 2017 in Martha's Vineyard, MA
August 5 2017
MARTHA’S VINEYARD BOOK FESTIVAL in Martha’s Vineyard, MA
July 15 2017
Politics & Prose in Washington D.C.
June 28 2017
Bunch of Grapes in Martha's Vineyard, MA
June 23 2017
Parnassus Books in Nashville, TN
June 22 2017
NEW ENGLAND BOOKSELLERS ASSOCIATION in Amherst, MA
June 20 2017
Malaprop's in Asheville, NC
June 17 2017
Book Cove in Pawling, New York
June 14 2017
Barnes and Noble @ 82nd & Broadway, NYC
June 10 2017
Printers’ Row Lit Fest in Chicago, Illinois
May 2 2017
Wellesley College Club in Wellesley, MA
TSR: The Southampton Review
My New Unguenteur
Daily Shouts - The New Yorker
Roger Ailes’s New, Enlightened Code of Sexual Conduct
CDC PSAJenny's PSA for the CDC, currently seen on CNN, Headline News, MSNBC, Pandora, YouTube, NBC, TODAY, WebMD. Share I GOT SICK THEN I GOT BETTER with your theater, cancer group, hospital, college, or medical school.
Now that it’s harvest season, I’m curious: How did your garden grow this summer?
Wasn’t it thrilling, in those early days, to watch your vegetable patch begin to come alive? To step into your garden in the dewy dawn and see what magic had transpired during the night, how each brave green shoot had grown a little taller? And then, after only a few weeks, to spot adorable tomatoes and green peppers, no bigger than you might find in a dollhouse kitchen? To peek under a fuzzy leaf and encounter a shy cucumber the size of a p… Continue Reading Garden Growing Pains here.
Is this seat taken? Actually, I’d better sit over here, so you can be on my good-ear side. I’ll hear you much better, especially when the band starts up. I should probably get a hearing aid, but I’m saving up for dental implants… Continue reading Me, Flirting here.
I love my new unguent. It is pour le visage, and I invented it. It has a milky, viscous quality that reminds me of something unpleasant that I can’t quite put my finger on…
When a female employee, or potential employee, enters my office, and I greet her by locking the door and telling her to lift her skirt so that I may see her underpants, or to turn around so that I may “get a good look” at her buttocks, I will try to remember that her silence, or her statement “I don’t think so,” may not be an attempt to get me to persuade her with flattering references to her smoking bod…Read more at the New Yorker
DRIVING THE CAR
Getting into my car,
I vow that I will drive with
Mindful care and caution.
If, in fact, this is my vehicle,
For I often step into
Someone else’s car
By accident… Read more at the New Yorker.
Sometimes I forget to do my Gratitudes, and that’s just dumb.
Because when we don’t take the time each day to count our Gratitudes, our Ingratitudes rush right in and take over. And then we are off to the fucking races, are we not? Life can seem to be nothing but the accretion of the many unfortunate, heartbreaking, humiliating things that happen to us, until we finally die, alone and in diapers, leaving all of our money to two cats named Bosco and… Read more at the New Yorker.
I am very excited about “Bust,” my new TV show. It has a strong feminist slant and stars me, as homicide detective Casey O’Malley. Every week, a woman gets murdered in some hideous, hair-raising fashion, and I relentlessly track down the perps—the rapists, the serial killers, the wife beaters, the sex traffickers, the victims’ creepy gynecologists and professors and fitness trainers, their incestuous dads, their sadistic pimps, their pervy ministers, and their weirdo neighbors.… Read more.
I am certainly not going back into the house where something bad or creepy has happened to me already. I am never going to a carnival or a fair, especially if there is happy calliope music playing. You will not find me owning, or spending any time with, a ventriloquist’s dummy, or the kind of doll that “walks and talks.”
Read the rest online or pick up the March 31, 2014 issue of The New Yorker.
For a while, what I missed most in changing from a married person into a single person was the act that we were as a couple. I don’t mean an act as in a piece of fakery, although toward the end it was kind of fake. I mean it in the sense of how we were when we went out in the world.…
Read the essay online or pick up the November 2013 issue of MORE Magazine
You know what I’m tired of? People being so down on themselves for not remembering things. Doesn’t it seem like everyone you know over a certain age is spending way too much time saying, “Dammit, I just saw that movie yesterday, and I can’t remember what it’s called. This is terrible.” That’s so negative. Quitcherbellyachin’! Celebrate what you do remember!
For example, I was in Duane Reade the other day, forgetting what I was there for, and, yes, getting bummed out about it. Then I remembered that I was there for some kind of hair product, only I couldn’t remember what it was. Then I remembered that it was the stuff that comes in a bottle that you wash your hair with, but I couldn’t remember what it’s called, so I knew I wouldn’t be able to ask any of the employees to help me find it. Just as I was about to throw myself a great big pity party there in the hair-care aisle, my eye caught a display of those fake tortoiseshell headbands. And my brain said, “Lynne Tryforos.” Read more…