M.C. Easton

I’m Shy. Deal With It.

Or so I used to think. But then I realized it was getting out of hand. I thought I was just an introvert, mistaken for a shy person. Introverts often prefer to be alone; shy people are scared of social interactions with strangers. It’s a big difference. And then I ventured forth into the world.Continue reading “I’m Shy. Deal With It.”

How You Get There

The crazy thing about the creative process–well, one of the plethora of crazy things–is that it isn’t linear. In fact, it’s an awful lot like shooting down a mountain creek in your kayak and hoping things turn out okay. I was talking over my novel with a fellow writer today, and she was interested inContinue reading “How You Get There”

When Memory Overtakes You

Where I was born. Where my grandparents’ ashes are scattered to a wind that whips up the dirt in fallow fields, sending great clouds of dust into the air. Home. A friend of mine just got back from her first trip to the Philippines in 16 years. She visited her elementary school, her childhood home,Continue reading “When Memory Overtakes You”

Grateful

This is no traditional Thanksgiving. Everyone I’ve talked with has spent at least one holiday–Thanksgiving or Christmas–on their own. And for various reasons, this looks to be mine. Yet I feel wonderfully at peace. To a great extent, I chose this for 2012, and I know the space and quiet this year exist only soContinue reading “Grateful”

A Certain Kind of Beauty

“You have to smile like this,” and my friend gave a tight-lipped smile. “Like you’re not sure. And you have to keep your chin down at an angle, like this.” I was sitting across a cafe table from one of my oldest and dearest friends, who was generously giving me some pointers now that I’mContinue reading “A Certain Kind of Beauty”

The Traces We Leave Behind

I’ve been thinking lately of the framed photos of soccer and football teams in the gymnasium at the Webb Institute where my brother graduated last year. Black and white photos from the 1910s and 1920s, rows of gray faces, young and smiling under their wool caps. A special kind of optimism, solid as the muddyContinue reading “The Traces We Leave Behind”

All Forward From Here

So a few weeks ago I went on a road trip with my Big Friendly Gay (BFG) buddy. Yup, 3,000 miles down to Tucson, Arizona and back. We’re both very organized and exacting, both insufferable know-it-all types. I’m the kind of person who rises at precisely 6am, fixes my coffee at 6:15, starts writing atContinue reading “All Forward From Here”

Terror and Hope

“Make art from the places that terrify you,” my artistic mentor, Amy O, said this time last year. And it has proven good advice. Most of us have a lot of things that terrify us, and that turns out to be a good thing. If you’re an artist. But a surprising thing happens when youContinue reading “Terror and Hope”

The Dying Leaf Is The Most Beautiful

“Life isn’t so great.” A friend says. “I’m sick of people trying to be cheerful about everything. Trying to pretend their lives are great and perfect and posting that all over social media. Rather than presenting themselves and their lives as they are. In all their complexity. With all their sides–good and bad.” And she’sContinue reading “The Dying Leaf Is The Most Beautiful”

Be Still, and Listen

I sat at my desk today running my fingers through my hair with frustration. “Ack! Why isn’t this working?” I was telling myself there was this scene I had to write. A middle-aged deputy returns to an isolated farming community where he was unable to close a case twenty years ago. Stumbling upon a chanceContinue reading “Be Still, and Listen”