Margo T Krasne
The Articles
July 23, 2021
As I read Kay’s O’Brien’s article: A Player Raped Me, And I’ll Be Silent No Longer (The NYTimes June 27th,) I — as I suspect too many other women — identified with her story. And while, unlike Ms. O’Brien, I was lucky enough not to have my career and life altered by the rape and its aftermath, I know how you can escape into mind-numbing nothingness during an attack, all the while wondering if you stupidly did something to bring it upon yourself.
In 1963, not wanting a lovely evening to end, I invited my date up for coffee...
I don’t know how many times over the last nine months—for that matter the last two years—I have uttered the words, “What would I do without you?” I have said it to friends of long standing. Said it to people with whom in the past I’d get together now and then but who have come back into my life on a more regular basis. That those words turned out to be the title I would eventually choose for my book of short stories was pure happenstance. My words weren’t said lightly...
December 10, 2020
“Aren’t you excited?” friends asked a few days before my second shot of Moderna.
​
“Of course,” I answered, hoping they wouldn’t hear the heaviness in my voice or notice the forced smile on their phones’ screen. How to articulate the apprehension I was dealing with when I couldn’t fully explain it to myself?
​
For months I’d looked forward to...
Jun 20, 2017 · 5 min read
I conducted a full-day workshop yesterday. A few months ago I wouldn’t have thought it possible. Oh, not that I couldn’t run a workshop — I wouldn’t have accepted the job if I thought I couldn’t make it through the day. No, what surprised was how alive I felt. How much energy I had that day into the next. How I’d come back to a place I’d never expected to be again — at 79 no less! Obviously, I had to reevaluate...
Aug 8, 2017 · 6 min read
The surprise came when she threw her arms around me. I hadn’t done anything special. Just helped her choose between two dresses she’d been obsessing about; the choice obvious once she put them on. In one she appeared school girlish; in the other grown up and elegant. Not that she isn’t a grownup. She’s in her early fifties, has two kids and a husband. As for elegant, well...
