Tender Lies

July News

In July, Belinda Bruner will be giving a reading and leading a discussion concerning the issues of gender and race that arise in her novel in progress, This Is Why We Sing. Here is the blurb for the discussion, which will take place Thursday, July 5th at the Stillwater chapter of Pflag. This Is Why We Sing A Reading and Discussion Racial and sexual diversity are foundational to the development of narrators in Belinda Bruner’s novel-in-progress. A published poet and accomplished scholar and singer, Dr. Bruner’s fictionalization of real family history explores the legend of Pancho Villa and his female ...
Read More

Before Books, There Was Belinda Bruner From Broken Bow

Before Books, there was Belinda Bruner from Broken Bow, singing from the tops of trees. The urge to narrate is pre-linguistic; we’ve listened and repeated stories with our bodies in dance, with our mouths in song, with pictures, gestures, and marks along trails. I come from a long line of story-tellers who, in multiple languages, presented me with my history. Long before my conception under the chinaberry tree (just out of sight behind the lilac bush) my grandmothers fought wars, crossed rivers, drank dirty milk from a five-gallon bucket, and dragged themselves bloody over ice in order to ensure the ...
Read More

To Member Again

I believe to remember means “to member again,” as in to make us whole when we have been dismembered; separated from our original beauty. Before my father lost a leg to diabetes I was paying my little brother 50 cents an hour to let me teach him things, things that brought me joy. But in order to teach beauty, I must re member my own. This is a gift my father has given me. Last Christmas I was visiting the folks. Bored with all the television specials, my father was in the living room manning the flipper. All the Von ...
Read More

Because I (Beer) Can

When I was 6 years old, boys often followed me home from school.  I think I fascinated them because, while I was not a tomboy, I did things that they never saw girls of the 60s do.  Or maybe it was because the beer was always on me. My dad introduced me at a young age.  I played in the mud; danced in the rain; squatted down in my dress to play marbles.  I filtered pond scum through my hands to catch tadpoles.  I tied bacon to a string and let it down crawdad holes; could pull up an ole ...
Read More
Want to See More Content?
Sign up for the newsletter today!
HomeBlogPublished PoetryVideosVitaGalleryContact Info
© Belinda Bruner - All Rights Reserved