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But what I kept wondering about is this: that first second when she felt her skirt burning, what did she think?

Aimee Bender

It was a fleeting statement, one I didn’t think she’d hold on to; after all, she had birthed us alone, diapered and fed us, helped us with homework, kissed and hugged us, poured her love into us.
AIMEE BENDER

After Birthed Fleet Help Homework Kiss Love Pour Statement
It’s a pleasure to dive into Hirshberg’s storytelling skills in American Morons.
AIMEE BENDER

Country Dive Moron Pleasure Skill Story Telling
Large meadows are lovely for picnics and romping, but they are for the lighter feelings. Meadows do not make me want to write.
AIMEE BENDER

Feeling Lighter Lovely Meadow Picnic Romp Writing
It was like we were exchanging codes, on how to be a father and a daughter, like we’d read about it in a manual, translated from another language, and were doing our best with what we could understand.
AIMEE BENDER

Code Daughter Details exchange Father Language Read
He was also removing all traces of any tiny leftover parts, and suddenly a ritual which I’d always found incestuous and gross seemed to me more like a desperate act on Joseph’s part to get out, to leave, to extract every little last remnant and bring it into open air.
AIMEE BENDER

Carefully Concentrate Desperate Detail Intimate Leave Open Part Remnant Ritual Time
But what I kept wondering about is this: that first second when she felt her skirt burning, what did she think?
AIMEE BENDER

Believe Burning Kept Passion Second Skirt Think Thinking Wonder
As soon as you laugh from nerves or make a joke or say something just to say something or get all involved with the bushes, then you blow open a window in your house of desire and it can’t heat up as well. Cold draft comes in.
AIMEE BENDER

Bush Cold Desire Draft Heat House Involve Joke Laugh Make Something Soon Window
When the light at Vernon turned green, we stepped into the street and George grabbed my hand and the ghosts of our younger selves crossed with us.
AIMEE BENDER

Ghost Grab Hand Light Self Step Street
The writing I tend to think of as ‘good’ is good because it’s mysterious.
AIMEE BENDER

Good Mysterious Tent Thinking Writing
I am not happy, help me — like a message in a bottle sent in each meal to the eater, and I got it. I got the message.
AIMEE BENDER

Bottle Eater Esch Happy Help Meal Message Sent
You’re the perfect girl’, he said, rubbing his chin. ‘You expect nothing.
AIMEE BENDER

Expect Girl Nothing Perfect Rub
I didn’t mind the quiet stretches. It was like we were trying out the idea of being side by side.
AIMEE BENDER

Idea Mind Quite Side Stretch Trying
I was with them for all of it, but more like an echo than a participant.
AIMEE BENDER

All Echo Like More Participant
Not getting bored of my own story and/or character is one of the main struggles.
AIMEE BENDER

Bore Character Getting Main Struggle Writing
My eyelids are my own private cave, he murmured. That I can go to anytime I want.
AIMEE BENDER

Anytime Cave Eyelid Private Want
Kissing George was a little like rolling in caramel after spending years surviving off rice sticks.
AIMEE BENDER

Kiss People Rice Rolling Stick Survive Year

But what I kept wondering about is this: that first second when she felt her skirt burning, what did she think?

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But what I kept wondering about is this: that first second when she felt her skirt burning, what did she think?

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