I worked the steel mill that summer, Raritan River Steel, on Elm Street. I’ll have to tell you about that wild-ass gig one day — I still have nightmares about it, Elm Street nightmares.
I subscribed with the silly notion that I would get inspired to get back into writing. I read all the posts, but no writing follows. It’s after posts like these that I start jotting down thoughts. Thank you for sharing.
Bittersweet and lovely. A touching anecdote. Y tiene una cara muy bonita. Because of what appears to be her guarded nature, I’m left wondering and imagining who the lady is with her arm around her shoulders. Thank you for this.
‘For a few weeks that steel mill summer I caught up to her and we walked home together. 1.7 miles in total, up through Sayreville and then Madison Park and then across Route 9 and then at last the covered landfill and we were home.’
Beautiful. Love as persistence, as longing to know and be known, as trailing behind. I always love the imagery of your writing—like I’m there, at that bus stop, on that silent walk, at that kitchen table.
Beautiful essay, Junot. I echo another commenter: I could easily, gladly, and joyfully read a whole book of these.
you're really kind, andrew, thank you.
This essay exemplifies so many of the reasons why I’ve loved your work for years. I could read a whole book of this easily, more than once.
Also, your mother comes alive unforgettably in the autofictional aspects of Yunior’s mother and it’s incredible to see a photo of her here.
Beautiful last line, as always.
I subscribed with the silly notion that I would get inspired to get back into writing. I read all the posts, but no writing follows. It’s after posts like these that I start jotting down thoughts. Thank you for sharing.
Thank you for sharing. Rejections will always be there to teach us.
Bittersweet and lovely. A touching anecdote. Y tiene una cara muy bonita. Because of what appears to be her guarded nature, I’m left wondering and imagining who the lady is with her arm around her shoulders. Thank you for this.
one of my sisters....
‘For a few weeks that steel mill summer I caught up to her and we walked home together. 1.7 miles in total, up through Sayreville and then Madison Park and then across Route 9 and then at last the covered landfill and we were home.’
Junot Diaz Country
josé david, you aint lying. and thanks for checking this out!
Amazing.
Talk about stick-to-itness.
Awww. Mama. And. Boy.
Determined. Directed. Devoted.
A thousand pages wouldn’t be enough. ❤️
Todo lo que escribes sobre tí mismo es hermoso y brillante. Gracias!
I read this and all I thought was I wish I dan hug you both 😍 🙏🏽
Beautiful. Love as persistence, as longing to know and be known, as trailing behind. I always love the imagery of your writing—like I’m there, at that bus stop, on that silent walk, at that kitchen table.
Great writing