Author of Almost Everything, Help Thanks Wow, Grace (Eventually), Bird by Bird & Traveling Mercies, as well as seven novels. Mother, grandmother, progressive.
I’m getting married tmrw in a redwood grove, at the age of 65, to a tall handsome writer
@NealFAllen
—good sense of humor, is smarter than I am, can fix anything, and cook. So never ever give up, no matter how things look or how long they take. Don’t quit before the miracle. Deal?
Here is some free writing advice: Stop Not Writing. You can turn off the tv for one hour. (The breaking news is that no one knows anything yet.) And in that hour, you can get 45 minutes of bad writing done, and this will change your whole day. Just one bad sentence after another.
So I got married yesterday, to a brilliant sweet soulful man named Neal, aka
@NealFAllen
. It was perfectly beautiful. Thank you all for your endless love and appreciation. (Signed) Mrs. Anne Lamott
God stopped by before I woke, so They left me a note that Ruth was resting and getting used to her new digs. They said she’s having a strategy brunch early tomorrow with Molly Ivins and Ann Richards, and for us to buckle up and keep the faith. Then she meets w/ her new trainer.
How to write: Stop not writing. Get and keep your butt in chair. Write really bad small sections of the whole—passages, moments, episodes, memories—til you have an incredibly shitty 1st draft. Then take out the boring parts, the lies and pretensions. Then write a better 2nd draft
This is not resistance, it’s co-dependence—trying to manage the catastrophe of dad’s alcoholism. It keeps Dad from hitting bottom by helping him look less insane than he is, hiding the keys from him. It keeps the family boat afloat, when it needs to be sunk. This is collaboration
By the grace of God and lots of clean and sober alcoholics, I somehow, against all odds, got sober 36 years ago today. If you are sick and tired of being sick and tired, reach out to a sober person in the comments—they will be there for you. I’m not kidding. This is how it works.
What shocks me to my very core is that SEVENTY MILLION people voted for this traitor, this sexual predator, pathological liar and flagrant criminal. One of the most morally most bankrupt, grossest humans in the country. 70 million people.
I got clean and sober 33
years ago today. I didn’t mean to, expect to or even want to. I just wanted the pain to stop. As a friend told me, “By the end, I was deteriorating faster than I could lower my standards.” I know my sober tweet people will help you if you reach out here.
A few days ago on our 2nd anniversary, my beloved
@flack50
& I were watching the US Open. He said, “Can I ask you something?” I said casually, “Oh, sure,” thinking it was about the carport we’re building. He said, “Will you marry me?” I’m 64, he’s 63, and God is SUCH a show-off.
Free writing advice: Stop not writing. Just do it—do it afraid; filled w/self doubt. Put a 1” picture frame nearby and just write what’s in it—1 passage, an idea, a memory, a possible opening. And do it really badly. Write an incredibly shitty 1st draft of this one thing. You in?
I am utterly stunned by how close this race is. I still think Biden will win, but I thought it would be a huge historical event, when we turned the barge away from the brink, and everyone sighed with relief.
A bit of a set back here: just got the single worst review of my life prominently featured in the New York Times, brightly illustrated for maximum visibility. Alexandra Jacob’s had a LOT of fun writing it. Feel doomed. Am going to sulk, and overeat.
If you’re glued to the news, or can’t watch, it’s OK. If you’re unable to eat or eating your body weight in ice cream & chips, it’s OK. If you’re having insane, self-centered thoughts about your gym closing, or your roots, or acrylic nails, it’s OK. You—YOU!—and your life matter.
My beautiful pal passed away yesterday at home. She had (somehow) gotten old. She was the perfect person and had the most beautiful smile. It is the end of the world and I feel that I will never have a moment’s happiness again. You may know the feeling. Sigh.
Here’s today’s writing tip: just do it. It will go badly. Keep your butt in the chair—it will start to go a bit better—not much, but you’ll have some momentum going. Make one terrible passage a little better Encourage yourself like you would a friend, for the courage to try.
I will be in 8 more cities, and then home; and ALL I plan to do through Nov is to work for Biden. Find a way to plug in. Register voters, adopt a swing state. Every election, I write & address thousands of voter post cards (while watching Below Deck.) Make a plan.The time is NOW.
How to write: Stop not writing. Sit at desk. Keep butt in chair for a while. Write any old paragraph. Fret. Write 1 more shitty paragraph. Get up, start some laundry. Back to desk, 1 more shitty paragraph. Fret. Check laundry. Sit back down, bitterly. Wait! You’ve written a page!
God left me a note that said however much TV you’re watching is OK, & whatever you’re watching—MSNBC? 90 Day Fiancé?—that’s OK, too. If you’re eating a little too much? Fine. We all need ballast right now. God said that pretty much the only thing that does matter, is Wear a mask.
How to write: want to. Stop not writing. Sit down and think of one story you MIGHT be able to tell badly. Take a stab at it. Blurt it out on paper. Go back and take out the boring or showoffy parts. Don’t give up on it! Listen for what it is trying to tell you.(It knows things.)
It’s my 35th sobriety birthday. I was deteriorating faster than I cd lower my standards. Sobriety’s given me everything alcohol & drugs promised—a lighted path, the greatest friends, self esteem; it gave me me, you, new life. If you want to give it a try, people here’ll help you!
Regrettably, I am going to miss Trump’s press conference for a second day in a row, because the kitty is very sleepy and I think we are both going to take a nap.
I may write a book called The Miserable Blessing of Bottoms. My life began 32 years ago tmrw, when I got sober. I cd never have imagined that all that insanity, shame & sickness cd lead to my sweet life, son, grandson & work. I think of this every day, as the USA hits its bottom.
In early recovery, a guy told me, “By the end of my drinking, I was deteriorating faster than I could lower my standards.” If this is you, the people here in Comments will help you. Just say the word, that you have run out of any more good ideas; then buckle up, and come on home.
Here is my free writing tip for today. Stop NOT writing. Just do it, badly. Just write the thing you need or want to write, that you are avoiding. That avoidance is costing you greatly, isometrically, and in general well-being. So can you find one measly hour, to write, badly?
Elizabeth Warren was the most perfect candidate in ages, and we missed our chance to have a fantastic president. But it didn’t happen. Now it is time to move towards life on life’s terms. Everyone I know is 100% ready to fight tooth and nail to bring down Trump and fascism.
I found Hershey’s kisses that go with the cover of my new book. I was in Target, and God said, “Buy them, girl.” So I came home, held my book and ate Kisses. This is the moment when the elbow grease, unbelievable shitty first draft, the self-doubt and waiting is all worth it.
What’s so bizarre about listening to Cuomo is that he speaks in complete sentences that have meaning, and facts. And then, he shares another complete thought that builds on the previous sentence, without angrily repeating the last sentence several more times but w/ more adverbs.
We never ever give up, no matter what things look like, now matter how depressing the news. It’s okay to hate everything for a few days; then we rise up again, and do the next right thing, which is almost always to help the poor however we can.
This is my nice tall husband
@nealfallen
standing at the foot of the tallest waterfall in North America. We got married two years ago, three days after I got Medicare, to celebrate the miracle that against all odds we found each other. He found me. I found him. Never give up.
It’s easy to see how 162,000 dead Americans can be overlooked by the GOP—I mean, gosh, there are still so many of us left—but I wonder if 95,000 infected children gets their attention? More will be revealed.
I don’t seem to be writing much anymore, beside the occasionalFB post on keeping the faith. But if I started again, I’d tell myself to write bird by bird; a really shitty first draft; to keep my butt in the chair; then go through and take out the lies, adverbs and boring parts.
Debate prep: I’m going to get a mixed bag of Halloween fun size chocolate bars—M&M’s, Kit Kat, Butterfingers—and every time Trump does the sniffly thing, I get to eat one.
Sen Susan Collins says changing the Senate dress code “debases the institution,” joking she will wear a bikini tomorrow.
“Obviously, I'm not going to wear a bikini,” she said, “But the fact is, as I understand it, I could!”
God stopped by and left a note that They think you are doing a great job with all this: and They said these days are so hard, infuriating, heartbreaking, scary, that if you’re glued to mindless TV, up & at ‘em or lethargic, bingeing, starving, shopping, whatever, you’re amazing.
Just wrote a long piece that is not awful. Given the times, it feels like Lourdes. I started w/one image, wrote 1 okay sentence after another. Took paragraphs bird by bird, till I had a shitty 1st draft. Then took out the throat clearing, lies & desperation, and began 2nd draft.
I hope Trump and his kids go to prison. But God loves this gross, violent, insane man. That’s the mystery of grace. I’ve said I’d wash Dick Cheney’s feet and I know he’d wash mine; while I’m not there w/Trump yet, I’d get him a glass of water. God and the pope would. Biden would.
If you can’t stop watching the news, or can’t bear to; if you can’t eat, or you finish off a week’s groceries in 2 days; if you’re still wearing the shirt you’ve slept in for 3 days; if 2 packages arrive from Amazon every day: you are Loved and doing fine; and your life matters.
I tweeted that no one deserves the humiliation Toobin is experiencing, and I got a blood blister on my blocking finger. You really really get to disagree with me, but you don’t get to be an asshole on my tiny bit of turf.
Sometimes it is hard to believe that the light shines in the darkness, and that the darkness has not overcome it. How do we not despair? Well, we do despair. Despair is an appropriate reaction. Then we pick up litter, get thirsty people water, let others go first, love recklessly
1. NEWS: We can't mend this American mess if we don't try to fix the press. So I'm launching a newsletter, Press Run. A proudly progressive dissection of the press in the age of Trump, Press Run promises fearless media commentary;
Please get on board to help stop the recall: Gavin Newsom is not perfect but if you support the environment, public health, women’s rights, and a Dem Senate majority, please start spreading the word. The election is Sept. 14. Register by 8/30 and VOTE.
I’m going to be 66 tomorrow. I thought I was just 43, but oh well. You should all come over for cake and ice cream! And it’s OK to bring presents. But if you can’t make it, maybe you could make a donation to an organization that feeds and takes care of people who are struggling.
This is our dog, Mukti. She is the sweetest being on earth although she accidentally ate the couch. Also, two pairs of Birkenstocks. She is doing much better, except with pens, possibly wanting to try her paw at writing. Being away from her is intolerable. Send dog pictures.
I am not blocking anyone tonight for saying I must be a bitter old white woman, just because I found the halftime show appalling. Maybe you are having the beverage, and feeling feisty. I used to do that, too. But say it tomorrow and you are toast.
Say this is true, even when we get a savage review in The NY Times, 3000 miles away from husband, child, grandchild and dog.
How will love save the day?
Easy!
Will not pick up a drink or a drug, no matter what.
Radical self care.
Prayers: Help! Thanks (eventually)
Retail therapy.
Beloved priest friends Bill Rankin,
@Thomasweston
&
@jackkornfield
are marrying me and
@NealFAllen
today. Bill was there in 1985 when I was hittting bottom. I said God could not love me in the shape I was in, doing what I was doing. He said God HAD to love me—that was God’s job.
I’m trying to write, which means I am stopping every few minutes to make dentist, plumbing and tax appointments for next month, obsessing about how much my back hurts, and googling spinal menangitis. Then I work on a few sentences, until starvation kicks in. A person’s gotta eat!
Today is a special day. Today, every person in the whole world is the same age, There’s only one chance every 1,000 years.
Your age this year + your year of birth, will total 2020. It is the same for everyone.
It’s a thousand-year wait.
It’s our first anniversary, and we still really like each other. Thank you God for finding him in the haystack; You are really such a show off sometimes.
Giving a writing talk tonight off coast of Greece. Here is what I’ll say: No one cares if you write, so you’d better. NO ONE in your family wants you to write a memoir, but do it anyway. You own EVERYTHING that happened to you. Bird by Bird. Shitty first drafts. Butt in chair.
The early stages of a book: Passages and detailed notes clipped to a clothesline. Scribbled notes next to my computer on which I spilled coffee. A list of ideas for future sections I *know* I want to include. I don’t quite know what I’m doing but the book does. I’m its typist.
This does it: I am coming after
@senatorCollins
no matter how she votes on Kavanaugh. She’s talking about Dr. Ford like she’s an 8 year old. Even if Collins is going to win re-election, I want her to have to pour as much right wing money down the rathole as possible.
I hope that Dr. Ford will reconsider and testify before the Senate Judiciary Committee on Monday. It is my understanding that the Committee has offered to hold either a public or a private session, whichever would make her more comfortable.
How to write: Stop not writing. Get your butt in a chair, or schedule butt-in-chairage. Then be there, in place, as debt of Honor. Has to be today, has to be at least 45 minutes. Then write badly, one bad sentence after a worse one. We’ll help you make it better at another time.
Listening to Carrie Underwood sing Baptist hymns, bc
@BethMooreLPM
said to & if Beth Boom-Boom Moore tells me to do something, I do it. People can’t believe we love each other so, ex Southern Baptist and aging hippie left wing Jesus freak. We are a 2 woman reconciliation project.
In the airport rocking out to Krishna Das, George Harrison (“My Sweet Lord”), Allman Brothers.
Christian family of 8 watching me, all wearing t-shirts w/crosses made of swords. Flags on back. It must be nice to be so sure of yourself. Make an election plan! Adopt a swing state!
The bad news is that if you want/need to write, you just have to sit the fuck down & write. It’ll go badly but there’s no other way. I did yest for a new piece. It was like pulling teeth. I was bored, creatively arthritic & bitter. Wrote an incredibly shitty 1st draft. Victory!