Lunch Ticket
  • Current Issue
  • Archive
    • Issues Archive
      • Issue 27: Summer/Fall 2025
      • Issue 26: Winter/Spring 2025
      • Issue 25: Summer/Fall 2024
      • Issue 24: Winter/Spring 2024
      • Issue 23: Summer/Fall 2023
      • Issue 22: Winter/Spring 2023
      • Issue 21: Summer/Fall 2022
      • Issue 20: Winter/Spring 2022
      • Issue 19: Summer/Fall 2021
      • Issue 18: Winter/Spring 2021
      • Issue 17: Summer/Fall 2020
      • Issue 16: Winter/Spring 2020
      • Issue 15: Summer/Fall 2019
      • Issue 14: Winter/Spring 2019
      • Issue 13: Summer/Fall 2018
      • Issue 12: Winter/Spring 2018
      • Issue 11: Summer/Fall 2017
      • Issue 10: Winter/Spring 2017
      • Issue 9: Summer/Fall 2016
      • Issue 8: Winter/Spring 2016
      • Issue 7: Summer/Fall 2015
      • Issue 6: Winter/Spring 2015
      • Issue 5: Summer/Fall 2014
      • Issue 4: Winter/Spring 2014
      • Issue 3: Summer/Fall 2013
      • Issue 2: Winter/Spring 2013
      • Issue 1: Spring 2012
    • Genre Archive
      • Creative Nonfiction
      • Essays
      • Fiction
      • Flash Prose
      • Interviews
      • Lunch Specials
      • Poetry
      • Translation
      • Visual Art
      • Young Adult
  • About
    • Mission Statement
    • Lunch Ticket Staff
      • Issue 27: Summer/Fall 2025
      • Issue 26: Winter/Spring 2025
      • Issue 25: Summer/Fall 2024
      • Issue 24: Winter/Spring 2024
      • Issue 23: Summer/Fall 2023
      • Issue 22: Winter/Spring 2023
      • Issue 21: Summer/Fall 2022
      • Issue 20: Winter/Spring 2022
      • Issue 19: Summer/Fall 2021
      • Issue 18: Winter/Spring 2021
      • Issue 17: Summer/Fall 2020
      • Issue 16: Winter/Spring 2020
      • Issue 15: Summer/Fall 2019
      • Issue 14: Winter/Spring 2019
      • Issue 13: Summer/Fall 2018
      • Issue 12: Winter/Spring 2018
      • Issue 11: Summer/Fall 2017
      • Issue 10: Winter/Spring 2017
      • Issue 9: Summer/Fall 2016
      • Issue 8: Winter/Spring 2016
      • Issue 7: Summer/Fall 2015
      • Issue 6: Winter/Spring 2015
      • Issue 5: Summer/Fall 2014
      • Issue 4: Winter/Spring 2014
      • Issue 3: Summer/Fall 2013
      • Issue 2: Winter/Spring 2013
      • Issue 1: Spring 2012
    • Achievements
    • Community
    • Contact
  • Weekly Content
    • Friday Lunch Blog
    • Midnight Snack
    • Amuse-Bouche
    • School Lunch
  • Contests
    • Diana Woods Award in CNF
      • Issue 27: Summer/Fall 2025
      • Issue 26: Winter/Spring 2025
      • Issue 25: Summer/Fall 2024
      • Issue 24: Winter/Spring 2024
      • Issue 23: Summer/Fall 2023
      • Issue 22: Winter/Spring 2023
      • Issue 21: Summer/Fall 2022
      • Issue 20: Winter/Spring 2022
      • Issue 19: Summer/Fall 2021
      • Issue 18: Winter/Spring 2021
      • Issue 17: Summer/Fall 2020
      • Issue 16: Winter/Spring 2020
      • Issue 15: Summer/Fall 2019
      • Issue 14: Winter/Spring 2019
      • Issue 13: Summer/Fall 2018
      • Issue 12: Winter/Spring 2018
      • Issue 11: Summer/Fall 2017
      • Issue 10: Winter/Spring 2017
      • Issue 9: Summer/Fall 2016
      • Issue 8: Winter/Spring 2016
      • Issue 7: Summer/Fall 2015
      • Issue 6: Winter/Spring 2015
      • Issue 5: Summer/Fall 2014
      • Issue 4: Winter/Spring 2014
      • Issue 3: Summer/Fall 2013
    • Gabo Prize in Translation
      • Issue 27: Summer/Fall 2025
      • Issue 26: Winter/Spring 2025
      • Issue 25: Summer/Fall 2024
      • Issue 24: Winter/Spring 2024
      • Issue 23: Summer/Fall 2023
      • Issue 22: Winter/Spring 2023
      • Issue 21: Summer/Fall 2022
      • Issue 20: Winter/Spring 2022
      • Issue 19: Summer/Fall 2021
      • Issue 18: Winter/Spring 2021
      • Issue 17: Summer/Fall 2020
      • Issue 16: Winter/Spring 2020
      • Issue 15: Summer/Fall 2019
      • Issue 14: Winter/Spring 2019
      • Issue 13: Summer/Fall 2018
      • Issue 12: Winter/Spring 2018
      • Issue 11: Summer/Fall 2017
      • Issue 10: Winter/Spring 2017
      • Issue 9: Summer/Fall 2016
      • Issue 8: Winter/Spring 2016
      • Issue 7: Summer/Fall 2015
      • Issue 6: Winter/Spring 2015
    • Twitter Poetry Contest
      • 2021 Winners
      • 2020 Winners
      • 2019 Winners
  • Submissions
  • Click to open the search input field Click to open the search input field Search
  • Menu Menu
  • Link to Facebook
  • Link to Instagram
  • Link to X

Writers Read: Loitering by Charles D’Ambrosio

October 17, 2016/in Amuse-Bouche, Amuse-Bouche 2016 / Mary Birnbaum

loiteringI read the essay collection Loitering by Charles D’Ambrosio, and returned to my own work-in-progress that suddenly resembled the cute chicken scratch of a toddler. Or an actual chicken. I looked at my attempt at an essay and thought, surely there’s a mistake. This can’t be my most recently revised draft. Alas. And so D’Ambrosio’s work has had the dual effects of plunging me into depression over my own ineptitude and also making me a keener editor of my work. That is, I will be a keener editor just as soon as I climb out of this depressed funk.

I know it’s not fair to make the comparison. It’s just that every time I read an essay I admire these days, I wonder, will I ever approach any level of mastery? The answer is always no, but I never stop asking the stupid question. Maybe it’s a function of grad school. Maybe after I am finished with this program, I will return to enjoying great books without shivering in their shadows. Here’s hoping. And also, Charles D’Ambrosio would likely inveigh against the very concept of mastery.

I am being melodramatic. So I’m going to discuss something useful, like what it is that makes this book so transcendent. Each essay deserves its own annotation.

There is, firstly, the author’s command of language. I don’t use the word command lightly; he seems to have at his fingertips a more complete dictionary than the rest of the English speakers I know. His tone is witty and conversational, with attention paid to musicality. He can use words like preambular and prolepsis in the same paragraph and no one is irritated. (This reader was, admittedly, delighted by evident devotion to the mot juste, even when it had me consulting a glossary about once every page. This reader was even moved to use the pretentious term mot juste in an annotation.)

He is skeptical of all that is glib or pat, and all the while he is mercilessly critical when it comes to his own authority.

The title of the collection is an example of the author’s near-perfect diction. Loitering is exactly what D’Ambrosio gives the impression of doing on these pages, in the sense of lingering on the margins of situations and arguments for prolonged periods of time, paying attention and gathering observations. (An essay about a SWAT standoff is not about ostensible criminal activity, but about turning toward what the cameras aren’t pointed at—the city full of poverty and displacement; a piece about anti-whaling activists and native cultures who still hunt whales reveals arguments full of discrepancy and hypocrisy; an essay about observing the trial of Mary Kay Letourneau becomes an essay about the moralizers who wrote essays and opinions about the trial, and so on.) And loss is everywhere, handled with excruciating attention, loss of one brother to suicide, another to mental illness, and the big empty space—another type of loss—that exists in place of a relationship between the author and his father.

For all that these essays are authoritative, offering deep insights in intricate and innovative terms, the abiding theme is doubt. It runs like a seam through each essay, even when the author is making impenetrably sound points. It is as if he insists upon the fact of doubt above all else; it underlies his every assertion, whether through punch lines and self-deprecation or by perforation of axioms (his or anyone’s). D’Ambrosio reveals his powerful analytical mind on every page. Each essay’s subject has been considered inside and out, turned over, tasted, weighed, and still the author’s lingering questions about a given subject are what stand out. This is his particular strength. He can look uncertainty squarely in the face, he probes for what might have been missed in a given argument. This is a ballsy—and instructive—move for an essayist. He is skeptical of all that is glib or pat, and all the while he is mercilessly critical when it comes to his own authority. He expresses deep personal sadness in many of the pieces (via tone and subject matter), and maybe being that low is what allows him to explore the dark so fearlessly. He was already depressed, so it was only a stone’s throw to a space that he might ably call “chthonic”.

By giving a broad berth to uncertainty, D’Ambrosio also makes room for connection with his reader. In his preface, he asks, “Are we—the hesitant, the conflicted—all alone?” In contrast to essays which strive to be conclusive, the work in Loitering offers doubt like an open door. The collection even obliquely suggests that connections can be forged among the askers of questions, humanity (maybe love) is in lacunae and liminal space.

marybirnbaum_headshotMary Birnbaum is the Lunch Ticket blog editor and translation genre editor. She studies creative nonfiction in the Antioch LA MFA Program. She resides in Orange County, California. You can find her on Twitter and Instagram @ailishbirnbaum.

https://lunchticket.org/wp-content/uploads/2016/08/loitering.jpg 499 323 Mary Birnbaum https://lunchticket.org/wp-content/uploads/2021/12/lunch-ticket-logo-white-text-only.png Mary Birnbaum2016-10-17 05:23:262019-08-11 18:03:56Writers Read: Loitering by Charles D’Ambrosio

Amuse-Bouche Archive

  • 2025
  • 2024
  • 2023
  • 2022
  • 2021
  • 2020
  • 2019
  • 2018
  • 2017
  • 2016
  • 2015
  • 2014
  • 2013

Friday Lunch Blog

Friday Lunch! A serving of contemporary essays published the second Friday of every month.

Today’s course:

Behind the Eight Ball: How to Become Homeless in the Richest Country in the World

June 13, 2025/in Blog / Valerie Nyberg
Read more
https://lunchticket.org/wp-content/uploads/2025/05/Valerie-Headshot-2.jpg 2000 1500 Valerie Nyberg https://lunchticket.org/wp-content/uploads/2021/12/lunch-ticket-logo-white-text-only.png Valerie Nyberg2025-06-13 11:55:462025-06-17 17:55:59Behind the Eight Ball: How to Become Homeless in the Richest Country in the World

Meeting My Child Self at the Trauma Play

May 9, 2025/in Blog / Gale Naylor
Read more
https://lunchticket.org/wp-content/uploads/2025/05/Gale-Headshot-01July2024.jpg 1791 1587 Gale Naylor https://lunchticket.org/wp-content/uploads/2021/12/lunch-ticket-logo-white-text-only.png Gale Naylor2025-05-09 11:55:262025-06-17 18:07:25Meeting My Child Self at the Trauma Play

Products of Our Environment

March 14, 2025/in Blog / Mitko Grigorov
Read more
https://lunchticket.org/wp-content/uploads/2025/03/Mitko_Grigorov.jpg 378 300 Mitko Grigorov https://lunchticket.org/wp-content/uploads/2021/12/lunch-ticket-logo-white-text-only.png Mitko Grigorov2025-03-14 11:00:082025-03-31 11:51:57Products of Our Environment

More Friday Lunch Blog »

Midnight Snack

Take a bite out of these late night obsessions.

Tonight’s bites:

Dig Into Genre

May 23, 2025/in Midnight Snack / Lauren Howard
Read more
https://lunchticket.org/wp-content/uploads/2025/05/Lauren-Howard-credit-Terril-Neely-scaled-773x1030-1.jpg 1030 773 Lauren Howard https://lunchticket.org/wp-content/uploads/2021/12/lunch-ticket-logo-white-text-only.png Lauren Howard2025-05-23 23:59:492025-06-17 18:29:02Dig Into Genre

The dreams in which I’m (not) dying

April 25, 2025/in Midnight Snack / paparouna
Read more
https://lunchticket.org/wp-content/uploads/2025/04/paparouna-photo.jpeg 960 720 paparouna https://lunchticket.org/wp-content/uploads/2021/12/lunch-ticket-logo-white-text-only.png paparouna2025-04-25 23:55:312025-04-24 15:06:46The dreams in which I’m (not) dying

On The Map

March 28, 2025/in Midnight Snack / Ariadne Will
Read more
https://lunchticket.org/wp-content/uploads/2025/03/20220807-ariadnesaxt-MurielReid-01.jpg 1123 2000 Ariadne Will https://lunchticket.org/wp-content/uploads/2021/12/lunch-ticket-logo-white-text-only.png Ariadne Will2025-03-28 23:55:152025-03-31 11:49:32On The Map

More Midnight Snacks »

School Lunch

An occasional Wednesday series dishing up today’s best youth writers.

Today’s slice:

I’ve Stayed in the Front Yard

May 12, 2021/in School Lunch, School Lunch 2021 / Brendan Nurczyk
Read more
https://lunchticket.org/wp-content/uploads/2021/05/SL-Insta-Brendan-Nurczyk-2.png 1500 1500 Brendan Nurczyk https://lunchticket.org/wp-content/uploads/2021/12/lunch-ticket-logo-white-text-only.png Brendan Nurczyk2021-05-12 10:18:392022-02-01 13:24:05I’ve Stayed in the Front Yard

A Communal Announcement

April 28, 2021/in School Lunch, School Lunch 2021 / Isabella Dail
Read more
https://lunchticket.org/wp-content/uploads/2021/04/SL-FB-Isabella-Dail.png 788 940 Isabella Dail https://lunchticket.org/wp-content/uploads/2021/12/lunch-ticket-logo-white-text-only.png Isabella Dail2021-04-28 11:34:132021-04-28 11:34:13A Communal Announcement

Seventeen

April 14, 2021/in School Lunch, School Lunch 2021 / Abigail E. Calimaran
Read more
https://lunchticket.org/wp-content/uploads/2021/04/SL-Insta-Abigail-E.-Calimaran.png 1080 1080 Abigail E. Calimaran https://lunchticket.org/wp-content/uploads/2021/12/lunch-ticket-logo-white-text-only.png Abigail E. Calimaran2021-04-14 11:22:062021-04-14 11:22:06Seventeen

More School Lunch »

Word From the Editor

The state of the world breaks my heart every day. Broken hearted, I stay online. I can’t log off. Because my career and schooling are all done remotely, I tend to struggle with boundaries regarding screen time, with knowing when to break away.

Like many of you, I have been spilling my guts online to the world because the guts of the world keep spilling. None of it is pretty. But it’s one of the things that, having searched for basically my entire life, I found that tempers the chaos that lives rent free inside my head.

More from the current editor »
Current Issue »

Connect With Us

lunchticket on facebooklunchticket on instaX
Submit to Lunch Ticket

A literary and art journal
from the MFA community at
Antioch University Los Angeles.

Get Your Ticket

We’ll keep you fed with great new writing, insightful interviews, and thought-provoking art, and promise with all our hearts never to share your info with anyone else.

Newsletter Signup
Copyright © 2012-2025 LunchTicket.org. All Rights Reserved. Web design and development by GoodWebWorks.
Scroll to top Scroll to top Scroll to top