Inked in tattoos from neck to knuckle, Kevion Lyman rose from his bunk at dawn, pulled scrubs over his skinny frame, stepped out of his cell and set out for work. The 27-year-old strolled down the long central hallway connecting the different wings of the prison, past the dining hall, the solitary-confinement unit for violent offenders and the psych ward. Pushing open the big steel doors, he reported for his morning shift in the hospice.
Sometime last year, I flipped open a book I knew nothing about that had been recommended by a Twitter acquaintance. The book was Lidia Yuknavitch’s 2011 memoir,The Chronology of Water, and if a rawer, more honest contemporary author exists, I have yet to encounter her.
Over a crackly phone connection, I spoke with Lidia about her wayward path to writing, sex, suffering, art, and the beauty of sticking out in a crowd.
The Norton Field Guide to Writing (Essay Contributor)
Me, My Hair, and I (Book, Contributor)
Ask a woman about her hair, and she just might tell you the story of her life. Ask a whole bunch of women about their hair, and you could get a history of the world.
Surprising, insightful, frequently funny, and always forthright, the essays in Me, My Hair, and I are reflections and revelations about every aspect of women’s lives from family, race, religion, and motherhood to culture, health, politics, and sexuality.
Crowning Glory; Sixties Headscarves! Surf Punk Wigs! Statement Hats! 9 Women Embrace the Radically Stylish Possibilities of Life After Hair Loss
I’m 24, and This Is My World
How to Be There for a Sick Friend
The Show Must Go On
An Interview with Comedian Tig Notaro by Suleika Jaouad