Laura Lippman
@lauralippman.bsky.social
15K followers 600 following 2.4K posts
Likable character who specializes in writing unlikeable characters. Thick 'n Creamy since 1925. I am too a Merry Sunshine.
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lauralippman.bsky.social
Why are people telling me what I would do when I just said what I would do?
lauralippman.bsky.social
Good morning, Bluesky.

Face in the misty light (check)
Footsteps? Yes, but quite loud.
A laugh you’ll definitely recall (Again, quite loud)
On a train passing through (check)
Familiar-seeming eyes (check)
Did I give your very first kiss to you?
Nope, that was only a dream.

Photo from Oct. 2023
Domino Sugar plant at sunrise, reflected in the water, with only the “O’s” lighted in honor of the Orioles. 

Back to haunting Dana Andrews, back to being haunted by the memory of Waldo Lydecker in his bathtub.
lauralippman.bsky.social
I will find it, it is clearly my jam.
lauralippman.bsky.social
I didn’t! I’m treading water so hard.
lauralippman.bsky.social
Oh my god, I’m in love.
lauralippman.bsky.social
From the Mixed-Up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler is a straight-up masterpiece.
lauralippman.bsky.social
Now that I think about it, this is just a rational opinion. “Catcher” is really subpar compared to the best of E.L. Konigsburg. (I do love Nine Stories.)
lauralippman.bsky.social
The Catcher in the Rye is a perfectly adequate YA novel.
rachelfeder.bsky.social
Tell me your most unhinged literary opinion, as a little treat
Reposted by Laura Lippman
glennf.com
Hi, folks, a little personal news. In mid-November, I'm getting my aortic valve replaced via open-heart surgery. As scary as that sounds, my prognosis is excellent. This is fairly personal health news, and I'm posting publicly for two reasons.
lauralippman.bsky.social
If it is in a car, it’s not my car.
lauralippman.bsky.social
Good morning, Bluesky.

Lost my current journal, this is a true DEFCON 1, Harriet-the-Spy situation, if you see a turquoise Rhodia notebook please destroy immediately. Anyone who reads it will be killed in a stunningly perfect crime that I will repurpose into a novel.

Photo from 364 days ago.
Sunrise over a harbor, Domino Sugar plant in the background. 

My lost journal puts me in mind of the poem “Disobedience” by A.A. Milne, to paraphrase:

LAST SEEN WANDERING VAGUELY
QUITE OF ITS OWN ACCORD
LAURA LIPPMAN’S JOURNAL WENT DOWN TO THE END OF THE TOWN — $80 MILLION REWARD.
lauralippman.bsky.social
Probably should have gotten [redacted] to sign an NDA.
lauralippman.bsky.social
I mean, I’m a teeny bit bummed that I did not need to pay $[redacted] to ship the other pair of wings that did NOT fit in my suitcase, but at least I have the memory of me and the woman in Pack Rat collapsing in laughter over shipping a package described as “wings/tulle.”
lauralippman.bsky.social
My other New Orleans mission must for now remain a deep dark secret, but it was a stunning success.
lauralippman.bsky.social
Mom for the win! After a FaceTime consultation with daughter while I was in NOLA*, we agreed I should bring home this bee costume for a potential Halloween costume, it fits her perfectly & she loves it.

*It’s New Orleans, OF COURSE we have a costume closet. What am I, a farmer?
A bee costume on a hanger.
lauralippman.bsky.social
Spoiler alert: Tess became a dog person, as did I.
robinagnew.bsky.social
"She was not a dog person. She was not a cat person, fish person, or horse person. On bad days, she was barely a people person. She ate meat, wore leather, and secretly coveted her mother's old mink." -- CHARM CITY, Laura Lippman
lauralippman.bsky.social
One co-worker came up to me and said: “Is it true you once laid [Mayor] Henry Cisneros out flat in a flag football game between the newsroom and City Hall?” Pretty much!
lauralippman.bsky.social
Good morning, Bluesky.

Last night newsroom veterans of the San Antonio Light (‘80s/‘90s) gathered in memory of our late colleague Cary Cardwell. SA was Front Page-esque in our day — 2 newspapers, a lively competition, Hearst v. Murdoch — and we are all so grateful we got to work in that era.
Press passes from a 1987 papal visit and the 1988 GOP convention, which I think I tossed after taking this photo as I am not much of a hoarder.

Lord, I laughed so much last night.
lauralippman.bsky.social
Thank you! And, yes, I have a triptych in my office and another one hangs in my sister’s room in her memory care unit.
lauralippman.bsky.social
I’m sorry. Lost my mom a year ago and the feelings still pack a wallop.
lauralippman.bsky.social
True! And I had insomnia anyway so I was up at 4:30.
lauralippman.bsky.social
Good morning, Bluesky

“The journalist writes down the things he remembers
The things he forgets are the things that you feel
Gets off on his own quotes or breaks into Thatcher
I don't understand who will buy him a meal.”

Misread my plane ticket, thought the boarding time was departure time. Oops
Domino Sugar at sunrise, reflected in the water. Don’t know when this photo was taken, my phone produced it when I searched for “New Orleans.” 

I’m in the airport, headed for a bittersweet reunion with some old Texas newspaper friends, gathering for a memorial for an editor who died earlier this year. By this time tomorrow (fingers crossed) I’ll be two hours into my flight back to Baltimore.
lauralippman.bsky.social
Thank you! And I’m working on another Mrs. Blossom novel right now.
lauralippman.bsky.social
Good morning, Bluesky.

Last night I grabbed a FatBoy Jr. (as one does) and noticed the slogan on the box and I’m just going to make it my own: Thick ‘n Creamy since 1925.
A telephone poll with mileposts.