Elizabeth Howard

Elizabeth writes literary non-fiction, haiku, cultural rants, and Demand Poetry in order to forward the cause of beautiful writing. She calls London, Kansas City, and Iowa home.

Nothing to Say, No One to Say It To

I’m reading Faulkner’s “As I Lay Dying” for my book club, and trying very hard to finish it before Thursday, because after all it is my book club and I should at least be one of the ones who finishes the book. One of the characters — I am not sure which one, Cora’s husband…

What’s on My Desk Right Now

Since the recent addition to our life, every single flat surface has been overtaken with objects foreign, plastic and otherwise unnecessary to the progression of life as we’d known it. Or so I thought. However, small packages come with many bizarre and seemingly useless accessories, not the least of which are naked, anatomically-incorrect bald babies…

One Eye Twitch away From Madness

My eye has decided to start twitching. It isn’t much .. just a little thing that I hardly should notice– except it us driving me up a duxkog wall. It is the sleep deprivation version of Chinese water torture..: nothing much to complain about but just enough to take me slowly over the edge. There…

I never really liked fight club

For some reason, people went bananas over Fight Club. I never thought It was all that great. I am open to influence and convincing of course but to me it was exactly what a good film shouldn’t be– a great idea, tied up in a perfect 107 minute bow. The Sixth Sense and other films…

The End of the Day

By the end of the day, I don’t recognize myself. I feel infected, some viral version of myself that is spreading now slowly in the crawling last seconds of daylight. I don’t recognize myself and I find myself giving in, the way the sun must feel when night is pulling down on it like gravity.…

The Sound of Hula Hoops…

… sounds like love and sounds like a long time and sounds like the pause button sticking. It sounds like fear of a day never ending. All the tiny beads falling sound like my inabilities laughing at me. It sounds like all the projects gone wrong, and all the imagined friends wandering away. It sounds…

No Apologies

The admin in the English Department thinks I am too hard on my students, I can tell by the look on her face. I posted a note on mailbox that it is “Closed for portfolio submissions.” This implies, of course, that I haven’t received all of them, and that some of the students (the ones…

Making Snickerdoodles

We volunteered to make snacks for our friend’s free concert and I enlisted the very enthusiastic help of three eager assistants. I love to bake– pretty much in inverse proportion to how much I do not like cooking. I think it has something to do with the outcome. I see food on the table as…

My American Dream…

… has nothing to do with $$$, and never has, although travel always requires work, which requires money in exchange for goods and services. … spent 3 years in London, and very much likes the Idea of British. … is sometimes melancholy, and loves thick lyrics that make me want to sing along. … eats…

Morning Person

I am a morning person, definitely. I like night time too, but for me, the most productive time is early, before 11 a.m. Back in my full-time freelancing days I used to get this feeling of dread whenever 11 a.m. rolled around, as if the day were winding down into the “wasted” hours. I’d start…

Dinner’s Ready!

I had a revelation whilst reading a recipe suggestion from my friend Jeannie today. Midwestern recipes seem to always involve spraying a pan with Pam and sprinkling Durkee Fried Onions. We’ve been revamping our eating as you might guess to make things a bit more family friendly. Suggestions for dinners have been very “bake and…

Bye-Bye Fit!

Or, The Saddest Day Thus Far Colin just drove away with our Honda Fit. Honestly, I had NO idea how attached I’d gotten to that car. I truly felt like crying. It was cute, and peppy, with five on the floor, and the most no-frills, no-nonsense style of any car I’d ever met. Yes, it…

Stories Told

Why I Love The Moth When I was about seven or eight years old, I got fixated on the idea of creating a neighborhood newspaper. I would gather stories, write them, publish them using my parent’s typewriter, and deliver them to my neighbors’ mailboxes. So I did. I went around interviewing my family, and Mr.…

Knitting – The Anti-Rage Rage

So apparently, I’ve gotten quite hooked on this: It was a combination of the following influences: my Mom re-teaching me (about a year ago) to knit, in response to a bandage knitting project My friend Frisbie, who is a textile artist. She updated my skills as you can see here (though isn’t responsible for the…