Sunday, June 14, 2015
the weekend we spent in Moravian Bethlehem—of the happy times we had among friends old and new. Today I'm talking more about those three days—and the idea of home—in the Inquirer.
The story begins like this, below, and can be found in full here.
I traveled to Bethlehem, Pa., to talk about home at the Moravian Writers' Conference. About how home roots us, shapes us, tethers, scrapes, and needs us. About how (if we are writing, if we are living) we are forced to define what the word means to us.(With thanks as always to Kevin Ferris of the Inquirer, and with great thanks to Joyce Hinnefeld, for the invitation.)
Home is akin to poem. But how?