I was at the top of Telegraph Hill with my little sister, at the base of Coit Tower. I would be nine or so, and she would be six. We crawled through a hole in the fence and sat on a rough rock at the edge of the cliff, in the wind, and I broke […]
Archive | Sylvia Allen
Sheet Music
I grew up not allowed to sing. My father was a jazz musician all his life. He started playing professionally when he was 15, and was still doing that two or three weeks before he died, at age 86. He was a perfectionist, very critical, highly respected in his community, the west coast traditional jazz […]
Magic
My mother, Marguerite, was very bright, absurdly literate, pathologically insecure, and a poet. As a young mother she gradually became aware that her first and most loved child was a psychopath, and believed that recognition of his defect would destroy her life. She could lose everything she loved most, both her son and her husband. […]
A First Draft of the Pitch
By Sylvia Allen on February 5, 2019 in Getting published, Like Light From Stars, Sylvia Allen, Writer
At the writers’ conference next week, I’ll have to pitch my novel to as many suitable agents as I can manage. I will have only, like, three minutes to say what the book is about in such a way that the agent is interested in hearing (or reading) more. I just wrote a first draft […]
Going to the San Francisco Writers Conference
By Sylvia Allen on January 28, 2019 in Getting published, Like Light From Stars, Sylvia Allen, Writer
I’m going to the San Francisco Writers Conference! It’s February 12-17. I’m going to this particular conference because the novel that I’m trying to publish is very definitely set in San Francisco. I went in 2016 and had a wonderful time but did not use the contacts I made in any kind of useful way. […]
Metaphor and Dementia: Dancing in the Sky
In the metaphorical conversations I had with the patients on the dementia ward, certain themes came up again and again. Not surprising for people with late-stage terminal illness, a common theme was concern about work being finished. A teacher was anxious about whether the materials were ready for the next day’s classes. A caterer […]
Metaphors and Dementia: Dreams of Escape
Metaphors and Dementia: Dreams of Escape Continued from last week’s post: What excited me was that if I listened for the metaphors in what my demented, dying friend was saying, I could still understand him. We could communicate. I had to let go of the literal sense of what he said and let the real […]
Writers, Metaphor, and Dementia: David’s House
Years ago, long before the advent of protease-inhibitor cocktails, a close friend of mine was diagnosed with Kaposi’s sarcoma, which in those days was an AIDS-defining illness—a death sentence. I felt helpless and horrified, unable to do anything for my buddy, but wanted to do something useful, so I volunteered at Shanti, a San Francisco […]
Leaving the Best Day Job Ever
I have the best day job ever. I work at home. I never have to go into the office, which is 600 miles away. I set my own schedule. I can work more hours or fewer hours, as I please. My boss and long-distance co-workers are a pleasure to work with. The job is very […]
Thoth Delivers a Kick in the Pants
I had a dream that standing in front of me was a tall pale person with a bird’s head and a long, pointed beak that curved slightly downward. It had black feathers or hair in that style that used to be called a mohawk, from the top of its head and falling down its back, […]