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I keep trying to write about how my dad’s death has affected my feelings about God and religion and worship and faith. I keep trying, and failing. I’m failing, in part, because it’s still so raw. The pain still keeps me up at night. But I’m failing, too, because I’m just that confused. And it…

(At a Where The Wild Things Are Wild Rumpus. With monsters.)

I was eighteen when my parents’ marriage fell apart. It was – as the collapse of marriages usually are when there are children involved – terrible. One of the more difficult aspects, for me, of the collapse of their marriage was my mother’s need to talk to me about it. She suspected (rightly) my father…

The story of Roman Polanski’s long-overdue extradition to the US to face the music for raping a child thirty-some years ago has been making me crazy, not least because at the same time as the world (rightly) wrings its hands and wags its fingers and voices its horror over evils committed by clergy within the…
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