Note to self.

Write about something other than the baby and the ridiculous sleep patterns we have. That is all.

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Writing weather.

My own noisy and fragmented writing life has me idolizing that quaint, hermit-like picture of writers. When I read novels, I imagine the men and women who wrote them. They are of varying age and are clad in thick, wool sweaters. They are always thin, wasting away as they drink mug after mug of tea, … Continue reading Writing weather.

Stemming the flow.

Mother-writers often lament the absence of the muse amid the chaos a new little one brings into the everyday. "How am I supposed to be inspired when I can barely keep my eyes open in this ten-minute window I have managed to find for myself?" they cry. "Should I really skip this opportunity to shower? … Continue reading Stemming the flow.

Squeezing the writing into my everyday.

A writer friend linked to this lovely and inspiring piece, by Michelle Aldredge, about the ways the constraints of life, particularly those of parenthood, are essential to creativity. (Robin, the writer friend who led me to Michelle's post, writes truly beautiful things herself.) I considered the spaces into which I squeeze my own writing. My … Continue reading Squeezing the writing into my everyday.

A gem from the memoir class I’m teaching.

The topic: Creating your own character, i.e., shaping your persona The exercise: Using a two-person scene you've already written, write the scene again using the other person as the first person narrator. Silence as they write. Silence. Silence. Silence. Then, a chuckle. I glance up from my lesson plan. Bill laughs, running his fingers over … Continue reading A gem from the memoir class I’m teaching.