Writings by Diane

Now is the season for "beach reads" books. I always think of romance novels following in this category. When I was a teenager, I read many books written by Barbara Cartland . I must have reached my quota of stories about pure damsels being wooed by strong suitors, for now I shy away from this genre.  No, the book that is my summer read is We Were the Mulvaneys by Joyce Carol Oates. This title has been on my radar for years. The past tense of the verb was what stuck in my brain. I was accustomed to present tense: We are Marshall , We are Family , We are the World .   However, this book's title seemed to have a hint of regret and sadness, which at the time didn't appeal to me at all. A few years later, I remember hearing that a Lifetime movie was produced based on the book. This fact served as a testament that it must be a true tearjerker and I once again steered clear. Recently, I saw this hard cover book at Savers on three separate occasions. Its position on the bo...

Recently, I read an article in O Magazine about professional photographer Ashlee Wells Jackson . She has a body of work (pun intended) capturing brand new mothers proudly posing with their babies and their post pregnancy bodies, extra pounds and stretch marks not concealed by photo retouching. As I looked at the photos, I wished her work was around the time I had my son. It would have been comforting to see appreciation for the body changes. Over 16 years ago, when I was pregnant with my son, my body knew exactly what to do. It was as if it assembled all its parts and announced, "Gather around troops! This is what we were made for! Commence metamorphoses!"  However, my mind was like a conscientious objector. During my first trimester, I thought "I'm having a b-b-baby? No kidding? Really?" Eventually, my mind caught up and joined the program, marveling how my body changed with every trimester. After the customary 9 months, my son arrived and I was thrilled. A ...