Tag Archives: Sylvia Plath

Sheila sent me a note with the terrible news this evening. This post is not thought out so please forgive me. Nicholas Hughes, the son of Slyvia Plath and Ted Hughes, has committed suicide. I talked to Nicholas a few … Continue reading →

Today is a special day for me. It’s Sylvia Plath’s birthday. It was, I don’t know – three years ago? Four? – that Sheila wrote a birthday post about Sylvia Plath. (UPDATE: check out the yearly post here!) Knowing nothing … Continue reading →

My agent’s assistant had written two comments on a page of my manuscript. I had written the sentence: He was eager to be at home. In the margin, in her flawless penmanship, the assistant wrote, “Sounds like Hemingway. Short declarative … Continue reading →

My Sylvia Plath obsession continues apace. As I read her poems, I recognize her complex relationship with sight, eyes and eyeballs. Poems from 1960 and 1961 are abrim with eyes: ‘white as a blind man’s eye’, ‘mobs of eyeballs’, ‘my … Continue reading →