Yes, I am still in Poetry Month land, trying to indulge the lyrical, beret-wearing part of me. But someone shared this column on Twitter. The author is a member of the Erma Bombeck Writers Workshop, an organization's whose sells-out-in-five-minutes conference I was so very fortunate to attend some years back. Years before that, I wrote for something called "Housewife Writers Forum" that gave awards for the "Best Imitation Erma Bombeck story." I wasn't too keen on the "Housewife Writer" part, but loved the idea of continuing the women's humor genre. I even just bought "Laugh Out Loud," an anthology of humor writing by writers in the EBWW (yes I am so jealous! and proud! 40 women writers included!)
Reading this kind of hilarious work reminds me of my love for Shirley Jackson, who, best known for horror, was Erma before there was Erma. (And seriously, how blurry is the line between humor and horror! Think of what has happened with clowns lately!) So, please enjoy this essay by Dorothy Rosby, (linked below the photo) who was looking in my windows, FOR SURE.
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