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I marvel at those who write their own memoirs. How daring they must be. What has always drawn me to fiction is the power of a story to capture and define. And it is one thing to use that power to illuminate a fictional character: here’s a bit and there’s a bit and for one shimmery second, here’s someone who might be whole. But it’s quite another to train that power on my own life. In We Are Called to Rise, Avis says she didn’t like to write things in a baby book. That she didn’t want to shape events after they happened. And she got that fear from me.

I once was a girl who worked in a store that sold guns and toys. That’s her in the photo above. Before that I was the youngest daughter and a middle child in a big and happy family. I grew up across the street from a river, in a magical house, in a poor and thrilling neighborhood. My life divides in two: before that family had a great grief, and after. Many years have gone by, and I barely recognize this girl. Now my joys are my children, my dear friends, my family, a marriage that has lasted thirty years, a teaching career that grounds me in real lives, and this glorious crazy journey of becoming a published writer when I thought such possibilities were past.

Would you know more about me if you knew where I lived, or the names of my pets, or what degrees I earned? Would you know me if I told you about the dreams I have at night, or the regrets that wake me up, or the memories that make me laugh aloud? Perhaps. But then I would have to choose just what to reveal, and this is a power best reserved for fictional characters – those who can be neither hurt nor embellished by my choices.

 

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Blog

  • Women’s Bodies – and a sneak peek (at a book)

    March 25, 2024

    The Women’s Alliance at my college asked me to give a talk on “women’s bodies," and this is what I shared with students.  "Here’s the thing. Every quality of our…

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  • VegasStrong: What I’m going to do

    October 3, 2017

    It turns out I have nothing to say. Yesterday, the horror just grew from morning to night. I’m a professional imaginer, and it was the imagining that did it. I…

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  • Live nude, my friend

    August 3, 2017

    I live in a place that might be considered exotic (or bizarre or fantastic, fanciful, implausible, preposterous, incredible: there’s a long list of adjectives, often conflicting, that might be applied)…

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  • May you know there is enough

    April 24, 2017

    At American Dreams: A Festival, I was asked to participate in “A Prayer for the American Dream.” It was a gorgeous night in Red Rock Canyon, and here’s what I said:…

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  • Give it up!

    March 29, 2017

    I belong to a GiVe group of women who donate a small amount of money each month. We don’t look very diverse (twelve white women in their 50’s) but we…

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  • Pals on the bus

    March 13, 2017

    I grew up in one of the oldest neighborhoods of Spokane, Washington. For my family, it was a compelling community that also had a river, and glorious sunsets over that river’s steep banks, and…

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  • Yada yada . . . Yaddo!

    March 12, 2017

    Last month, Touchstone's associate publisher, David Falk, sent me a photo he recently took in the Yaddo library. Yaddo is an artist residency program in upstate New York, and I…

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  • Who was that grad student?

    March 3, 2017

    About a million years ago, when I was in college, I did my senior thesis on Virginia Woolf. It was an odd choice of topic - for an American Studies…

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  • What will I write?

    March 2, 2017

    I have spent extended portions of my waking life in a dreamy state. When I am working on a new novel, the characters and their situations live in me. They…

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  • Peace, Latasha

    March 1, 2017

    I recently watched the winner of the Oscar for best documentary: OJ Simpson: Made in America. I’d been avoiding it, because all these years later, that case still thrums a…

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  • “On seeing a photo of the Antarctic – 2019”

    October 27, 2016

    "If it comes to this If one day, you are someone who cannot afford to see what everyone now sees If some day, everyone is someone who cannot see what…

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  • What one person can do

    October 15, 2016

    I've been meaning to post this short review I wrote of Bryan Stevenson's incredible memoir, Just Mercy. I was so very moved by this book. From Off the Shelf, May…

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  • I was thinking about courage

    June 19, 2016

    Writing is nearly always hard. Capturing inchoate ideas and feelings and experiences, forcing these into precise words arranged intentionally, demands fierce psychic energy: more with every passing year. It is…

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Contact

 

Laura McBride
lauramcbrideauthor@gmail.com

Reiko Davis, literary agent
reiko@defliterary.com